


Wrapped up in You

by mtothedestiel



Series: Garth Brooks 'Verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Country & Western, Country Music, Domestic, Established Relationship, Family, Famous Dean, Fluff, I'll make time, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Singer Dean, Wedding Fluff, and adorable wedding stuff, and definitely some smut, garth brooks 'verse, seriously, there's gonna be a ton of country music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With same sex marriage banned in their home state of Kansas, country music star Dean Winchester and his partner Castiel had never considered it an option.  After thirteen years, it's suddenly on the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Section 7, time for a wedding! For any new readers, welcome to the Garth Brooks 'verse, my homage to rock 'n roll country star Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, the love of his life! This section is going to be a full length fic, but that doesn't mean I'm done with the ficlets either! Enjoy this first chapter and let me know what you think!
> 
> P.S. This fic starts when Mary Margaret is almost three years old.

“Daddy.”  There was a tug on the corner of the blankets in which Dean was currently ensconced.  He grumbled, burying his face further into his pillows.

“Cowboy Daddy.”  Tiny fingers poked at Dean’s exposed forearm, urging him out of the dead sleep which he had too recently been able to achieve.  His flight from New York had gotten in at three AM, following what had felt like an endless week of interviews and appearances to promote his new tour.  Curling up behind Cas in his own bed after seven days had been like heaven, a heaven he was all too eager to return to, if his daughter would stop poking him in the arm.

“Daddy,” Mary Margaret whispered urgently, “Dada says you have to get up.”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned, blinking blearily at Maggie’s bright blue eyes and button nose, just barely high enough to see over the edge of the king sized bed, “What is it, baby girl? Daddy needs a little more sleep.”  The almost three-year-old shook her head, with a look of determination that reminded Dean so fiercely of Cas.  Without the little blonde fountain ponytail, that is.

“Dada says there’s somethin’ on the TV you hafta see,” Maggie insisted, jabbing Dean’s arm one more time with her chubby index finger.  Dean sighed into his pillows, counting the battle as lost as he dragged himself into an upright position, scrubbing at his eyes as Maggie tugged on his hand.  At least he’d had the forethought to toss on some pajama bottoms before he’d collapsed last night.  Once Maggie had started walking and talking Dean and Cas had figured out pretty quick that going to bed unclothed was no longer an option without a locked door or a babysitter.

“Alright baby, let’s go,” Dean declared, rising to follow his daughter out to the living room.  Cas was on the sofa, looking more awake but just as rumpled as Dean as he silently handed over a mug of coffee.  His partner’s attention was fixed on the television, where an early morning news broadcast was playing.  Dean paused to listen to what held Castiel’s attention, which was usually fleeting when it came to television, so raptly.

“ _…once again, in a landmark decision, a federal judge has overturned Kansas’ same sex marriage ban.  The ruling came early this morning, making Kansas the 43 rd state in the Union to acknowledge Constitutional protection of marriage, regardless of gender.  Judge Turner was reported as saying…”_

Dean was suddenly a little week in the knees, sinking down next to Castiel to listen.  Maggie played on the carpet, cooing and growling with a series of plush horses and plastic dinosaurs as the anchor on the screen continued to discuss the announcement.

“… _barring any appeals, state government could start issuing licenses to applying same sex couples as early as next month.  Despite conservative outcry, this announcement is already being celebrated as a major victory for LGBT groups in Kansas, and celebrities nationwide are speaking out on social media.  Here’s Monica with some of the top tweets this morning…”_

Castiel muted the TV, sparing them the opinions of B-list celebrities.  The pair sat in a dazed silence, punctuated only by the babbling narrations of their daughter from the floor.  Dean’s eyes drifted from Maggie, to the chipped rim of their matching coffee mugs, to the warm tan skin of Castiel’s ringless finger.

“Hey Cas.”  Castiel started a little as Dean broke the silence, finally looking away from the TV screen.  His mouth was still a little agape, and Dean’s gaze traced the curve of his pink mouth, up the sharp line of his cheekbones, to his deep blue eyes, framed by the first marks of crow’s feet that matched the sprinkling of gray hair Dean was starting to notice at his own temples in the bathroom mirror.  Castiel was safety. He was home.  His last name was still Novak.  Dean took a deep breath.

“Whaddya say the two of us get married?” 

Castiel almost looked surprised that Dean had asked him seriously.

“Do you want to?” Castiel asked, uncertain, “I mean, do you really think we need it?”

“I think it would be good, yeah,” Dean answered. 

“Even without anything legal,” Castiel said slowly, “I’ve never worried about our commitment to each other.”

“Me neither,” Dean agreed quickly, taking Castiel’s hand, “There’s no doubt babe.  But…”

“But?” Castiel asked, one eyebrow raised.

“But my mom and dad were married,” Dean continued, feeling out his words, “And so are Sam and Jess.  Ellen and Bobby.  And there’s something… _public_ about having that.  They get to call each other ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ and wear rings, and share a last name.  They don’t have to argue with the front desk lady at the hospital or get called each other’s _friend_ at the more conservative industry parties.  It’s…safety, and I want that.  For us and for Maggie.”

 Dean finished his thought and willed Castiel to understand.  It wasn’t a question of fidelity.  Castiel was the rock of Dean’s life, the only foundation in what was sometimes a whirlwind existence.  This was about _celebration_ , about all the public milestones they had been denied because of their status.  They’d never even had a commitment ceremony, trying to calm the media fervor around their relationship.  Now they could get married, like any other couple, and Dean wanted it.  For God’s sake, they were goddamned _celebrities._   If the Kardashians could have god knows how many weddings, Dean and Cas could have one good one.

“I’m also thinking Maggie would look damn cute in a flower girl dress,” Dean added as an afterthought.

“Flowers,” Mary Margaret agreed solemnly from the carpet, her blonde fountain ponytail bobbing as she nodded.

“You raise a valid point,” Castiel conceded, smirking before his expression turned contemplative, “Several valid points.”

“I mean we’re probably one of the higher profile queer couples with a Kansas address,” Dean tried to joke, “We gotta set a good example.”

“This is important to you,” Castiel guessed, winding their fingers together.

“Only if you want it too,” Dean answered, “We’re a family, no matter what.”

Castiel thought about it for a moment.  Dean tried to keep the pause neutral, but his heart was in his throat until he saw the smile curling the corners of his partner’s mouth.

“Alright, cowboy,” Castiel decided, planting a kiss on Dean’s lips, “Let’s get hitched.”

Dean thought he might pop from the happiness bubbling up in his chest.  He kissed Cas with everything he had while keeping it PG in front of their kid, making a mental note that Cas was in for the wettest, sloppiest blowjob the next time they got a half hour to themselves. 

“You hear that, cowgirl?” Dean exclaimed to his daughter once they finally broke apart, “We’re throwing a wedding!”

“Yeehaw!” Mary Margaret chimed, which made Castiel laugh, breaking into one of his big gummy smiles as he and Dean nuzzled on the sofa.

After a round of celebratory engagement pancakes thoroughly enjoyed by all, the Winchester-Novak family was back in the living room.  Dean’s thigh bounced as his cell phone dialed in his ear.  Luckily Charlie was an early riser, and it wasn’t long till his publicist picked up.

“Hey Charlie?” Dean spoke into the receiver, “You see the news?”

Dean’s partner squeezed his hand.  Not partner, he thought suddenly.  _Fiancé._   The thought made him feel young and giddy.

“Yeah, you guessed it,” Dean answered Charlie’s excited chatter, “Me and Cas wanna get married.  And Charlie?  We wanna go the whole nine yards.”


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until Charlie was leading them into the wedding planner’s office that Dean realized they might be in for more than they bargained for. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Charlie laughed, nudging Dean’s shoulder as they made their way down the brightly lit hallway, “Pamela’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m nervous about,” Dean muttered, resting his hand on Castiel’s back for reassurance.  Pamela Barnes was the premier event planner in Kansas, though she had clients from around the world.  Charlie had recommended her almost immediately after Dean called, not only because of her good publicity record, but because she’d been doing same sex commitment ceremonies since long before marriage rights were even on the table. 

The hallway they made their way down was lined with photographs of various newlywed celebrity couples and a handsome woman with long black hair and a sharp smile.  Despite having multiple gold records and a sold out international tour under his belt, Dean was starting to feel a little out of place looking at the images of soap opera stars, world class chefs, and...

“Is that Tom Cruise?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

“Sure is, handsome,” drawled a smoky voice from an open office door, “Though the privilege of planning a Cruise wedding isn’t near as exclusive as it used to be.”

Leaning against the doorframe was woman from the photographs, though a little older, maybe in her early thirties.  Her smile was still sharp but it gave Dean a vibe that was more intelligent than predatory, as he had originally guessed.  Her eyes were gray with a healthy amount of laugh lines and an expertly applied edge of gunmetal grey behind long lashes.  She was dressed in an impeccable cream colored power suit, but instead of a blouse under her blazer Dean recognized the _Led Zeppelin II_ album cover on a t-shirt that looked like a concert original.

“Pamela!” Charlie exclaimed, greeting the wedding planner with a hug and a kiss on both cheeks.

“Charlie Bradbury, it’s been too long,” Pamela returned, “I like the short hair.  Very ‘power woman’.  Now please tell me these are my new clients.”

“You bet,” Charlie said, stepping back, “This is Castiel Novak, and you probably recognize his partner, Dean Winchester.”

“Sure do,” Pamela marveled, giving the pair a shameless once over as she shook their hands, “This is gonna be one good looking wedding.”

Dean laughed, but he wasn’t surprised when Castiel’s eyes narrowed, a low growl in his throat.

“Don’t worry Blue eyes,” Pamela chuckled, “I’m just admiring my raw materials.  Come on in, we’ll get down to brass tax.”

“Easy tiger,” Dean whispered as they followed the ladies into Pamela’s office, “You can claim me when we get home.”

“I’m planning on it,” Castiel whispered back, pinching Dean’s rear before settling into one half of the white loveseat in front of Pam’s desk, cool as a cucumber.  Dean left his hat on an available coat rack, trying to subtly adjust himself before joining him.  Fortunately stepping behind her desk seemed to shift Pamela into all-business mode, and Dean found himself distracted from his almost boner trying to keep up with her rapid fire speech.

“First things first,” Pamela pulled a sizable stack of documents out of one of her desk drawers, “Legal things.  I’m sure Charlie will be dealing with that end of our deal for the most part, but I just like to assure my clients that we are a totally confidential service until after the wedding.  We don’t take press calls, we don’t take photographs, and all of our outside contracts keep quiet or we don’t do business.  And _everybody_ wants to do business with us.  So don’t worry about popping up on YouTube thanks to a caterer with an iphone.”

Dean relaxed a little more into the white leather chair, tossing an arm behind Castiel’s shoulders.  Cas let out a breath of relief as well.  They’d known Charlie wasn’t gonna lead them into a publicity nightmare, but it was nice to hear it from Pamela’s mouth.  Dean and Cas had been in total agreement.  There would be no cameras at the wedding except for their own private photographer, approved by Charlie and with a nondisclosure agreement signed and notated.  Charlie would put together a press release for after the ceremony, with appropriate images for the hungry gossip columns, but the day itself was for family and friends only.

“I’ll take care of these,” Charlie promised, gathering the stack, “And I’ll leave you three to hash out the fun stuff!”

“Alright boys,” Pamela began once Charlie left them to handle all the necessary legal paperwork, “I basically have one question:  How country do you want to go?”

Dean and Cas exchanged a glance.

“About as country as we are, I guess,” Dean said after a moment, Castiel nodding beside him.

“Okay,” Pamela started pulling down binders from the plethora of shelves behind her desk, “We basically have three roads from here: vintage, redneck, or pop.”

“Vintage,” Dean and Cas both said at once.

“Perfect.” Pamela immediately replaced a few of the binders, flipping open others to show Dean and Cas page after page of ideas.  “Then my suggestion is we go classic Western, with some organic elements pulled from the surrounding landscape,” she said, “We can pull style from Gene Autry all the way up to Johnny Cash, but simple, elegant, not too formal.”

Dean liked the sound of that, and Cas was drawing his fingers over one of the pages displaying different Western shirt options.  Dean couldn’t help but imagine his partner in one, slim fitted and open at the collar. 

Pamela saw where Castiel was looking and nodded in approval.  “I think you’ll find the ‘cowboy’ look to be very suited to a wedding,” she continued, “It’s got that masculinity that the two of you just _ooze_ , but draws a lot from soft floral patterns and colors, which would be perfect to incorporate some more traditional wedding elements.  In fact…”

She flipped open another binder, which featured only pictures of flowers and floral arrangements.

“Everything in this binder grows locally,” Pamela explained, “Since the two of you have settled on June, we could do the whole wedding in Kansas wildflowers.”

“I like that,” Castiel spoke up, “Our wedding would look like home.”  

“Me too,” Dean agreed, “And I like the Western idea, as long as it doesn’t get too gimmicky.”

“I hear you,” said Pamela, making a few notes on her tablet, “What I’m going for is basically what you do already,” she indicated Dean’s boots, and the Stetson he’d left on the coat rack, “With a little of the delicacy that gets lost in the concert stadium.  Nothing costume-y, nothing too O-K corral.  You two already have a good thing; this wedding is just a showcase of that.  We want your style, but we also want to pare it down and let people see the emotional foundation underneath.”

Dean looked at Cas, whose eyebrows were almost to his hairline.  Looked like they were both pretty impressed.

“Well Pam, I like what I’m hearin’,” Dean decided, turning to his partner, “Cas?”

“Definitely,” Castiel agreed, “I’ll admit I was uncertain at first but Pamela’s insights have proven very accurate.  I think Charlie was right.”  

“That’s what I like to hear,” Pamela crowed, clapping her hands together, “You leave it to me, boys.  This party is gonna be my number one priority.  The CMT crowd is gonna be wringing their plaid with jealousy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers old and new! Thanks for sticking with this 'verse. I'm going to try and update pretty regularly. The chapters are gonna stay pretty episodic, leading up to the big event. As usual, I live for your comments :DD
> 
> Also: the comment Pam makes about Charlie's hair meant to reference Felicia Day's pixie cut, which I think is adorable!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHew, this chapter took a while to get through. Luckily, I've been jumping around in this fic, so i've got the next few chapter's primed and ready to go! After this we'll start moving through the timeline a little quicker, and getting closer to the big day!

Dean and Castiel’s “engagement party” was actually just dinner at Ellen and Bobby’s, with a few extra guests for the occasion.  Maggie had spent the afternoon with her surrogate grandparents while Dean and Castiel had met with Pamela.  It was almost dinner time when they finally made it into the older couple’s private country home, arms laden with drinks for the casual party.

Ellen practically dragged them in off the front step.

“There you are,” she declared, “I thought that wedding planner must have swallowed you whole.” 

“Sorry,” Dean apologized as Ellen wiped lipstick off Castiel’s cheek where she’s given him a motherly kiss, “Pamela had a lot of venue ideas she wanted to talk about.”

“Let me get these in the fridge,” Castiel excused himself as Ellen gave Dean a hug.  He took the box of sodas from Dean’s hands and disappeared into the kitchen.

“How’d Maggie do?” Dean asked, hanging his coat on the already crowded row of hooks.  He spotted Sam and his family’s coats, along with Charlie’s bright yellow jacket and John’s lived in leather duster.

“Well we took a good long nap this afternoon so it’s been a rambunctious couple of hours,” Ellen informed him, just a squeal echoed down the hall, “Speak of the devil…”

“Daddy!” Mary Margaret came tearing down the hallway.  Luckily Dean was ready to catch his speed demon of a kid, swinging her up on his hip with the ease of two years of practice.

“Hiya baby girl,” Dean huffed, adjusting his daughter’s weight.  Maggie was growing up right before his eyes.  He still remembered being able to hold her in the crook of one elbow. 

“Where’s Dada?” Maggie asked, tugging on the hem of her bumble bee jumper.

“He’s just putting drinks in the fridge,” Dean promised, “We got soda and juice and Capri suns.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret declared before collapsing against Dean’s chest dramatically, “Is it time for dinner yet?”

“I hope so,” Dean grinned as Maggie threw some impressive puppy eyes at Ellen, “I’m _starving_.  In fact if we don’t get some grub soon I might just have to eat you up!  _Nomnomnom-”_

Maggie giggled and shrieked as Dean pretended to gobble her up before blowing a raspberry on her belly. 

“Hey!  No eatin’ grandkids in my house,” Barked a new voice.  Dean looked up in time to see Bobby grin despite his rough tone. 

“Hey, old man,” Dean greeted, settling for a shoulder clap from his honorary uncle, seeing as he had his hands full of three year old.

“’Bout time you showed up,” Bobby said, scratching at his worn out ball cap, “We were gonna start without ‘ya.  Any trouble at the supermarket?”

“Nah,” Dean shrugged, “You leave the Stetson in the car, and suddenly you’re just another nobody stockin’ up for the cookout.”

“Eh people won’t recognize a snake until it bites ‘em,” Bobby grumbled, “Take it as a blessing, kid.”

“Believe me, I do,” Dean assured him.

“Anyways, I’m here for the little lady,” Bobby continued, indicating Mary Margaret, “Apparently she’s holding up the bowling tournament.”

“Oh yeah!  I gotta go kick Jesse’s butt,” Maggie informed him with a wet kiss on his cheek, “Love ‘ya, cowboy.”

“So you guys finally broke down and got the Wii, huh?” Dean asked, setting his daughter down to pursue her digital bowling championship.

“Yeah, Bobby’s been moanin’ about the evils of technology all week, but he and Maggie have been fishin’ on that thing all afternoon,” Ellen told him fondly, “So…’cowboy’?”

“Uh…yeah.  We’ve been tryin’ to let her figure out her own names for the two of us,” Dean explained as Maggie led Bobby down the hall, chattering away, “At the moment Cas is ‘Dada’ and I’m…‘Cowboy Daddy’.”

Ellen threw back her head and laughed as Dean flushed.

“You hear that, Bobby?” She called, and Dean could hear Bobby’s gruff chortle before he turned the corner.

“It’s just cause of the hat,” Dean grumbled.  Jeez, he let Cas bring Maggie to a concert _one time_ …

“Don’t you get all grumpy,” Ellen chided, “It’s adorable.  And I’ll bet Cas gets a kick out of it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asked, “I’m still convinced it was his secret plan from the get go.” 

“What was my secret plan?” Cas asked innocently, returning from the kitchen to give Ellen a hug.

“Gettin’ our daughter to call me ridiculous nicknames,” Dean reminded him, which only made Castiel laugh too.

“Well, she had to call you _something_ ,” Castiel teased, “We couldn’t both be ‘dad’.  Besides, I call you ‘cowboy’ all the time, and you don’t mind.”

“’Cause _that’s_ usually a precursor to _sex_ ,” Dean jibed right back before Cas blushed bright red and covered Dean’s mouth with his hand.

“Look at this boy, tryin’ to spare my poor virgin ears,” Ellen laughed, hustling them down the hall, “Everybody’s waiting for you two in the big room, so skidaddle.” 

“You’re adorable,” Dean teased his partner, earning himself an elbow in the ribs as they turned the corner.

“Hey!” Sam was the first to reach them once they got to the living room, pulling first Dean and then Cas into a massive hug, “You guys made it!”

“Made it?” Dean joked, slapping his brother on the back, “I thought this was our party.”

“Uncles!”  A slim six year old with Sam’s hair and Jess’ grey eyes collided with Dean’s knees next, but Dean managed to pull his nephew into a hug/noogie without losing his balance.

“Who’s this gangly moose critter?” Dean inquired with mock surprise, “It can’t be Jesse, he’s supposed to be a kid, not a Samsquatch like his dad already.”

 “Don’t rag on my kid, Winchester,” threatened a husky feminine voice from the sofa.

“Good to see you too, Winchester,” Dean joked back, bending to kiss Jessica on the cheek.  His sister in law was looking great, already three months along with Samsquatch number two.  Sam and Jess had met on the Winchester’s first solo tour, and eight years later they were solid, both in marriage and on the stage.  Jessica’s bright personality and haunting voice were a perfect counterpoint to Sam’s hulking form and damn good fiddle playing.  Dean would be lying if he said he’d been happy when his brother had left the band, but it had worked out well for both of them, and their growing families were only closer for it in the end.

“Jesse!” Charlie called from where she and Maggie were huddled around a large TV with little white remotes in their hands, “It’s your turn to bowl, buddy!”

“What am I, chopped liver?” called a new voice.  Dean turned to see one of his favorite people.  Jo Harvelle, country music sensation, in all her blonde haired, brown eyed, former girl-next-door glory.

“Jo?” Dean exclaimed, pulling his friend into a hug, “I thought you were on tour.”

“What, and miss your big announcement?” Jo laughed, “Nah.   It’s Tamara’s anniversary and Dorothy’s dad broke his leg, so we decided to take the weekend.  Now where’s my favorite almost brother-in-law?”

“Jo,” Castiel greeted her warmly, “I thought you were in Texas this weekend.”

“Nope,” Jo repeated, ruffling Cas’ hair, “I’m here just to see you two and to enjoy some of my mom’s home cookin’.  Speaking of which…”

Jo turned to the room at large.

“Ellen says ‘it’s chow time’!” She announced.  Immediately Jesse and Maggie made a beeline for the dining room, with the adults following close behind.  Dean missed dinner at Ellen’s too often not to make getting too his seat a priority.

 

* * *

 

“Now I know you boys just wanted this to be regular Sunday dinner, so I’ll keep it brief,” Bobby began, “As far as the people in this room are concerned, Dean and Cas are already as good as married, legalities be damned.” 

Castiel’s heart was warmed to see Sam, Ellen, and even John nodding as Bobby spoke.

“But we know this is important to you two,” Bobby continued, “So I’ll just say this: congratulations.  Dean, you’ve found a great partner and a beautiful baby girl and I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own kid.”

Dean waved Bobby off, but Castiel could see he was touched, especially when John clasped him on the shoulder, cementing Bobby’s praise in his own way.

“And Cas,” Bobby toast carried over the murmurs of agreement, “I know I speak for everybody here when I say Dean couldn’t have chosen a better man to spend his life with.  We’ve counted you as part of our family for years, and we’re damn glad to have ‘ya.”

It was Castiel’s turn to be choked up, looking in awe at the smiling faces of his unexpected extended family.

“To Dean and Cas,” Bobby concluded, “We only wish we could have had this party ten years ago.”

There was a general whoop and cheer as everybody toasted Dean and Castiel with whatever they had in their glass.  Castiel and Dean shared a quick, chaste kiss before Ellen started passing plates and everybody dug in.

 

* * *

 

“She’s growing up fast,” John observed, watching Mary Margaret navigate the controls of Wii bowling with all the finesse a three year old could muster.  They had returned to the living room with full bellies and drinks, beer for the adults and soda for the kids and recovering alcoholics.  Dean and John were in the corner, having staked out the two armchairs in the room to watch Maggie and Jesse’s restarted tournament.

“I know,” Dean agreed, kicking his sock feet up onto an ottoman, “Cas is already looking at pre-schools.  It freaks me out.”

“You worried about putting her in a regular classroom?” John asked.

“You mean like publicity wise?” Dean clarified, “Yeah.  It’s gonna be a song and dance wherever we end up.  Even with Charlie.”

“She’ll be alright,” John bet, relaxing into the comfortable shape of his recliner, “You two’ve always had a good head about that celebrity nonsense.  Maggie will do fine with you and Cas behind her.”

“I’m not really ‘there’ full time though,” Dean mused, picking at his bottle wrapper, “Cas is gonna have to handle so much of it on his own, once the new album goes out.  I don’t like it.” 

“Dean, you’ve been together what, twelve, thirteen years?” John guessed, “Your man can handle the life or he’d have told you by now.”

“I know.  And I’m there as much as I can be,” Dean grumbled, “But it never feels like enough.”

“That’s the way it is as long as you’re on a stage for a living,” John commiserated.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth the trouble,” Dean muttered.

“Sorry, I missed that last part,” John said, looking back from the kids teaching Bobby how to play tennis, but before Dean could elaborate Ellen was summoning them all back to the dining room for pie.

“You don’t have to call us twice,” John called back as they all began to migrate towards the mouth watering smell of Ellen’s desserts.  Dean swallowed back the doubts as he followed his dad. 

“Are you alright?” Dean jumped as Castiel appeared at his elbow.  He’d thought Cas had been engrossed in a conversation with Jo and Sam across the room, but of course his partner had noticed Dean’s glum expression.

“Yeah, babe,” Dean promised, tossing an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, “I’m good.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Okay,” Dean began, looking down Pamela’s long to-do list while Cas and Maggie made sandwiches for lunch, “Who’s walking down the aisle?”

Castiel thought about it for a minute before giving a resigned sigh.

“I suppose I would make the most sense.”  At Dean’s curious look Cas continued.

“Most of the family there will be yours,” he explained, “I realize we stopped drawing those lines years ago but if anyone’s being ‘given away’ it’s more me than you.”

Dean nodded slowly and filled in the box on the sheet.

“If you’re cool with that,” Dean agreed, “So who’s giving you away?”

“Me!” Maggie chimed suddenly.  Dean and Cas both looked at Maggie, then at each other.  Castiel nodded amicably and Dean wrote her name down with a shrug.

“Alrighty, Miss Mary Margaret also gets marked down for flower girl duties,” Dean continued, ignoring Maggie’s excited echo of “flowers!”, “And Sam says Jesse is game for ring bearer.”

“That’s good,” Cas said, placing a plate in front of Dean, “I’ll assume Sam agreed to be your best man?”

“Yup,” Dean confirmed, writing down his brother’s name, “I asked him at Bobby’s last weekend.  How about you?”

“Anna,” Cas supplied, “I called her last night.”

“Great,” Dean wrote down her name as well, “We haven’t seen Anna since Christmas.”  Dean actually did miss his soon to be sister-in-law.  Definitely the most the closest of Castiel’s siblings, she’d even volunteered an egg when they had started exploring surrogacy options.  It was thanks to Anna that Maggie had at least some genes from Dean _and_ Cas.

“Groom’s people?” Dean asked next, passing over an open bag of chips.  They were staying far away from the word “bridesmaid”.

“Balthazar,” Cas supplied, naming one of his close work friends, “And I want Charlie.”

“Aw…I wanted Charlie,” Dean mock pouted.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Castiel chirped, flicking a chip at Dean.  Dean grumbled, but marked down Jo and Benny for his own side of the altar.  He didn’t really begrudge Cas and Charlie their friendship.  They’d bonded during the long hours clocked backstage at Dean’s concerts, back when Cas used to follow the tour as much as he could.  Now Cas usually stayed closer to home, for his job and for Maggie, but he and Charlie still made an effort to hang out. 

“Looks like the last thing is…music,” Dean deciphered, scrolling down the list, “Band or DJ?”

Castiel and Dean exchanged a glance before they both burst out laughing.  Maggie squealed as well, giggling around a bite of sandwich, though she wasn’t in on the joke.  If there was one thing the Winchester-Novak wedding was not going have to outsource, it was music.

“I’ll make some calls,” Dean promised, already mentally drawing up a list of performers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update today, so i didn't wait to post it. Lots of fun things on the horizon! As usual I am fueled by your comments :DD


	5. Chapter 5

Dean emerged from his basement office just before noon, after possibly the longest phone interview of his career.  Those fan magazines were so goddamned _thorough_.  Still, Dean’s fans were the reason he was still afloat in country music, so he did his best for them.

“I’m finally done with that kid from the magazine,” Dean called.

“I’m almost through with these finance papers,” came Cas’ reply.  Dean’s partner was in his office, from the sound of it.  Dean took the long way there, figuring he’d scoop Maggie up from wherever she was playing and they could have some lunch.

Dean’s plans for a lazy family afternoon were interrupted by the unexpected absence of his daughter.  Nursery?  Nope.  Living room?  Nope.  God forbid the kitchen?  Uh uh.    

“Hey babe?” Dean poked his head into Castiel’s office, the first serious warning bells chiming in his head.  Castiel’s sleeves were rolled up and he had a pencil stuck in his ear.  He’d clearly been at it as long as Dean had.

“Yes?” Castiel didn’t look up from his laptop.

“Where’s our kid?”

Castiel looked at Dean then, brow creasing in alarm before relaxing almost immediately. 

“Oh,” Cas laughed, “I forgot to tell you.  She’s out to lunch with Pamela.”

That didn’t exactly calm Dean down.

“Maggie’s out to lunch,” Dean repeated dumbly, “With _Pamela_.”

“Mhm,” Castiel confirmed, going back to his finance report, “Apparently she needs to discuss bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“With our _three-year-old_?”

Castiel shrugged, still typing away.  “Maggie seemed very excited to contribute to the wedding plans.”

“I’m getting married to a nut,” Dean muttered fondly, wrapping his arms around Cas from behind and pressing his nose into his soft hair.

“Well, it does mean we have until three o’clock to do anything we want with no baby in the house,” Castiel reasoned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, voice dropping, “You got any ideas?”

“Well…”

Dean traced his hands suggestively down the front of Cas’ shirt, nosing at his neck as he made sure to graze his thumbs over Cas’ nipples.

“I’m going to finish this report.”

Dean groaned, thunking his forehead down onto Castiel’s shoulder.

“…And then we should have sex.”  Dean glanced up to see a grin twitch at the corner of his fiancé’s mouth. 

“Now we’re talking,” Dean exclaimed, planting a wet kiss on the side of Cas’ face, “You finish your thingy and I’ll go do some stretches.”

“…Looks like I’m getting married to ‘a nut’ as well,” was the last thing Dean heard Cas mutter before he practically skipped out of the office, heading for the master bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“Alright missy,” Pamela began, facing Mary Margaret in her toddler booster seat, “Time for serious business.” 

Maggie considered the strange woman on the opposite side of the table.  She was definitely not Dada or Cowboy Daddy in terms of socializing, in Maggie’s opinion, but she had hair that curled in boings that Maggie really wanted to play with and she had provided a damn good macaroni and cheese lunch.  Mary Margaret kicked her saddle shoe clad feet under the table and waited for Pamela to continue.

“Now we have three groomsmen and three bridesmaids, if there is such a thing in this scenario,” Pamela said, laying out a series of color swatches on the table.  Maggie found the squares of color to be slightly mesmerizing, and touched each one with a chubby finger.

“Now we know that the first color is gonna be pale denim,” Pamela was saying, “Which means we need three more colors.”  Maggie figured out then that Pamela meant _she_ was gonna pick the colors, and that piqued her interest even more. 

Pamela showed her the blue, which Mary Margaret approved of.  It looked like Dada’s eyes when they played outside in the sun.  If they were gonna have that, then Maggie figured they should have a matching one for Cowboy Daddy.  She perused the row of options until she found a light green one, which she handed to Pamela.  Pamela nodded her approval and waited for Maggie’s next choice.

Maggie next move was to put all the purple squares in a firm “no” pile.  Maggie did _not_ like purple.  It reminded her of the scary dinosaur movie that Grandpa John had tried to watch with her.  Dada and Daddy would not be having purple of any kind at their wedding.  She _did_ like a bright yellow one.  It reminded her of their kitchen, and the big sunflowers that grew in her back yard.  Pamela put it next to the green and blue cards and Maggie liked them all together.  They looked like summertime colors.

The last color she chose was pink.  Generally Maggie wasn’t overly fond of pink, but this wasn’t pink like _babies_ wore.  It was bright and reddish, kind of like the lipstick Pamela was wearing.  When she put it next to the other colors, it kind of looked like a garden, if gardens were rectangular and made of paper.

After considering all her other choices, Maggie nodded, pushing the four colors towards Pamela as far as her three year old arms could reach, which was, in fairness, not very far, but Pamela got her point.

“Alright,” Pamela declared, tucking the swatches away in her binder, “On to the next order of business.”

Mary Margaret was starting to think she had a real talent for this wedding stuff.

 

* * *

 

“God, I am in love with your thighs,” Dean groaned, heaving the heavily muscled limbs over his shoulders as he pounded into Castiel.  They had about forty minutes until Maggie was due home, which was just enough time for a pair of orgasms and a shower if Dean’s stamina didn’t give out and he could get a couple of hits on Cas in just the right spot.

“Also your biceps,” he added, watching Castiel’s arms flex as he clutched the headboard, bracing himself against Dean’s eager thrusts.  Castiel’s jaw went tight and his eyes wide, and he clenched down on Dean impossibly tight as he came, spitting white over his chest and belly.  The added pressure around his dick sent Dean over the edge as well, and he fell forward as he spent himself inside Cas with a broken moan. 

“Also your face,” Dean concluded breathlessly after a few minutes.  He pressed a kiss to Castiel’s mouth as they both panted, spent and satisfied.

“That was extremely poetic,” Castiel observed dryly, clutching Dean to his sweaty chest, “You should write a song about it.”

“Shaddup,” Dean grumbled, nibbling at one of Castiel’s nipples in revenge.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter just popped into my brain out of nowhere, but it turned out to be very important for the Dean and Castiel of this 'verse, I think. It takes place on the same day as the previous chapter.

Dean and Castiel lay sprawled on the living room carpet, Mary Margaret between them, in a macaroni and cheese coma.  Castiel was staring at the ceiling, knees bent, mind abuzz.  Maggie’s wedding activities with Pamela that day, apparently successful, had reminded him of a conundrum that he wanted to address with Dean sooner rather than later.

“Dean?”  Castiel rolled onto his side, keeping his voice low as not to wake Maggie.  His daughter did not fare well when she didn’t nap in the afternoon for at least a few hours, and she’d had a busy day.

“Hm?” Dean mumbled, clearly on the edge of sleep himself.  Castiel hesitated, but he forged on, unwilling to leave his concerns untended, lest they prove a bigger issue down the road.

“Will you be offended if I don’t take your name?”  Dean’s eyes flickered open at Castiel’s serious question, and he turned to his side as well, the two of them a pair of curving parenthesis around their sleeping child.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Castiel stumbled, eager to explain himself before Dean jumped to the wrong conclusion, “It’s just…my family.  Anna…my dad.  We’re closer now, but there were times that the Novak name was all that held us together, and I’m not sure that I want to erase that part of me.”

“I didn’t assume you were going to,” Dean answered slowly, “Not gonna lie, I had hoped…“

Castiel nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat.  The last thing he’d wanted was to hurt Dean, but he’d managed it anyway.  He stroked his fingers absently along the hem of Maggie’s prairie blue dress, guilt heavy in his chest.

“Hey.” Dean touch was light under Castiel’s chin, prompting him to look up and meet his partner’s green eyed gaze.

“I had hoped,” Dean continued, “But I’m gonna be your husband, not your owner.  All I want is to take care of you, and I’ve been doing that for twelve years, with or without ‘Winchester’ on your driver’s license.”

Dean’s wide palm settled at the back of Castiel’s neck, thumb stroking delicately across Castiel’s pulse point.

“You may be walking down the aisle,” Dean said softly, “But you’re not the bride, Cas.  Even if you were, I’d want you to do what makes you happy.”

Castiel leaned into Dean’s touch, relief bubbling under his skin.  Maggie shifted between them, features still peaceful in sleep.  Castiel traced the delicate lines of her fingers before enshrouding her hand in his own, his hold careful.

“I want to marry you,” Castiel breathed, still studying the soft flush of Maggie’s cheeks, “No matter what name we end up with.”

“I could take yours,” Dean suggested mildly, withdrawing his hand.  Castiel didn’t have to look up to see Dean’s clear reluctance despite his offer. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, a gentle rebuff, “But I think ‘Winchester’ is too much of who you are to give up.  It doesn’t feel right.”

Dean nodded, relief plain in his features.  Castiel appreciated that his partner had offered, knowing the close ties between his identity and the family name.

Castiel held their sleeping daughter’s hand, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“I do wish the three of us could share a name,” he murmured wistfully.  To his surprise Dean chuckled, mindful of the sleeping toddler between them.

“We can,” Dean informed him, laughing again at Castiel’s confused expression, “You’re over thinking it, babe.”

“You’re right,” Castiel agreed, “What are you talking about?”

“Well, we both want to have each other’s name, but we don’t want to give up our own,” Dean explained, then looked down at Mary Margaret, “Let’s take Maggie’s.”

Maggie’s name.  Mary Margaret Winchester-Novak.

“You mean hyphenate?” Castiel asked, “You’re okay with that?”

“Why not?” Dean answered, eyes dancing, “I can still be Dean Winchester on the album covers, and you don’t have to throw out your business cards.  Where it really counts, we’d be the same.”

Castiel had never really considered putting their names together, mostly because he hadn't thought  _Dean_ would consider it.  He knew that the public was probably expecting Castiel to take his celebrity husband’s name, but Dean was right.  They were partners, and this would show that.   

“Castiel Winchester-Novak,” he said aloud, mostly for his own benefit.  Castiel smiled.  There was a wholeness to the sound of it, the hard and soft edges coming together in harmony. 

“Dean Winchester-Novak.”  Dean nodded his approval, rubbing Maggie’s back affectionately as they lay on the carpet.  The three of them.  One whole family.

“Dean, Castiel, and Maggie Winchester-Novak.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Charlie, we had a deal,” Dean argued, scrubbing one hand down the side of his face, “I did the week in New York, which nearly goddamned killed me, by the way, I jumped through all your hoops, smiled through all your press junkets, and I’m _supposed_ to be scot free in Kansas ‘til the wedding.”

“Come on Dean,” Charlie wheedled, “I know what I said but _Gabriel Tonight_ is like the _Enterprise_ of talk shows and Captain Kirk is personally requesting you and Cas.”

Dean groaned and Cas rubbed his back. 

“It might not be too bad,” Castiel soothed, keeping his voice low enough that Charlie wouldn’t hear over speakerphone, “You and me in New York for a day or two.”

“That’s not the point,” Dean grumbled into Castiel’s shirt collar, “I’m tired of missing time with Maggie.”

“It’s just a weekend,” Castiel reminded, “You know Ellen would be happy to take her.”

“Two days or two months, babe,” Dean moped, “I hate it.”

 “You guys still with me?”  Charlie’s voice called from the phone on the coffee table.

“Ugh,” Dean responded, sitting up with a resigned sigh, “We’ll do it.  But we’re only staying one night and I want to see the questions before we go on air.  That guy gives me the jeebs.”

“Copy that,” Charlie agreed, “We get in, you sing your song, you two answer some wedding questions and generally make everyone sick with your cuteness, and we get out.  I’m on it.”

A few minutes later Dean ended the call, tossing away his phone dejectedly after settling the details with Charlie.  Castiel felt bad for their shortness with their friend and publicist, but at the moment he was more concerned about Dean.

For most of their relationship, Dean’s performance schedule had been a necessary but usually tolerable evil.  From time to time it had even been fun.  Castiel would follow the tour when he could, and it made the stretches of time when Dean had to be away seem shorter.  Not to mention the thrill of seeing Dean on stage, all of his shyness melting away with the rising energy of a crowd as he strummed, sang, and crowed for the masses.  With Maggie’s birth had come compromise.  Dean had been adamant that Maggie wouldn’t be dragged into the transitory life that he remembered from his own childhood, so Castiel had volunteered to spend more time in their home state.  It allowed him to focus more energy on his own job and on their daughter.  Unfortunately it left Dean, the innate family man, alone on the road more often than not.  Castiel disliked the time apart as well but he hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on his partner.  Dean’s career, which had until recently been fulfilling and exciting, was becoming a burden.

“This isn’t just about two days in New York,” Castiel guessed, “You’re upset.”

“I mean _yeah,_ Cas,” Dean exclaimed, “I actually live here, what?  Six months outta the year? And in between that I’ve gotta be making trips to New York, to Hollywood, to Nashville, and it just goes on and _on_ and in the meantime you’re stuck here by yourself with a full time job and our baby.”

“Dean, I miss you when you have to go but I don’t resent my time here, or my time with Maggie,” Castiel tried to reassure, “You know that, right?”

“What were Maggie’s first words?” Dean asked instead.  The memory was one of Castiel’s favorites, but it also made his heart ache when he realized Dean’s point.

“’Dada,’” Castiel recalled, remembering his one year old daughter’s pointing finger, followed by a look of confusion, “One for me, and then again because-“

“Because she was looking for me,” Dean finished, head in his hands, “But I wasn’t there.  Instead of being home with my kid I was in a stadium in Tucson.” 

Dean blew his breath out in one long exhale, dropping his head back against the couch.

“I’m tired,” Dean admitted softly, looking at Castiel, “I’m tired of the travel, and the all nighters.  Mostly I’m tired of missing you, and missing out on Maggie’s life.”

“Dean,” Castiel began hesitantly, “If it’s bothering you this much…maybe we should talk about it.  Really.”

For a minute Dean stiffened, and Castiel waited for a joke or a brush off, but then his shoulders slumped and he sighed.

“Yeah, okay.”

* * *

 

“And the last _Cutest Couple_ question,” Gabriel intoned, guiding Dean and Cas through one of his well known mini games, “Castiel, what time does Dean get up when he can sleep in as late as he wants?”

Castiel barely had to think about the question, throwing Dean a sly grin as he flipped over his answer card. 

“At least twelve,” he answered, with that dry humor that made audiences fall in love.  Gabriel cackled as well, while Dean gave a mock pout.

“Alright, alright,” he said indignantly, flipping his answer card card around where he had written “High Noon” in large block letters, “You got me.”

A loud “Ding Ding Ding!” chimed from somewhere backstage as the audience cheered.

“Three out of three!” Gabriel whooped, keeping the crowd going as PA’s scurried to remove the handful of game show props from the usual desk and chairs set.

Gabriel segued smoothly into the interview portion of the show. “So it looks like you two are going strong, despite Dean’s late sleeping habits.”

“Hey now,” Dean objected, trying not to wince at the forced audience laughter, “When you’re on a tour bus for months outta the year, you start to appreciate your memory foam a lot more.”

“Especially when you’ve got this blue-eyed dream boat waiting for you at home, am I right?” Gabriel leered as the audience hooted and cheered.  

Castiel’s hand closed around the back of Dean’s neck, thumb moving in soothing circles against his pulse, and the tension drained out of Dean’s shoulders.  He managed an aw-shucks laugh, leaning over to give Cas a peck on the cheek that wouldn’t scandalize any viewers.

“It definitely makes staying home a lot more appealing.”  Dean swallowed, counting on Gabriel to follow their agreed upon transition.  “Cas…and my little girl, they’re my reason for everything.  It’s hard to be away from them.”

“Gee, Dean-o,” Gabriel commiserated, “It sounds like you’re getting a little road weary in your old age.”

Gabriel sounded more sympathetic than Dean had ever heard him, probably because he was faking it.  Gabe had agreed to play ball once Dean and Cas had explained their decision to Charlie, who’d handled the rest with her usual awesomeness.  Dean got to make his announcement, and _Gabriel Tonight_ got the breaking story.

“You’re right.  I love what I do,” Dean explained, “I love the music, and I’ve got the best group of fans a guy like me could ask for.  Without my career I never would have met Cas, so I have all of you to thank for that.”

The audience applauded, with a few more enthusiastic whoops and cheers mixed in.  Castiel’s grip on his neck and shoulder tightened, grounding Dean as his words faltered.

“But I’m not getting’ any younger,” Dean continued, “And despite all the blessings the band has brought, the time away from my family is starting to cost me a little too much.”

You could hear a pin drop in the studio as the crowd waited for his next sentence, and Dean wondered briefly if the day would ever come when he could stop making life changing declarations in front of a studio audience.

“That’s why, after I release my next album in September, I’m retiring from live performance.”

* * *

 

“Thanks letting me hog the mic.”

One hell of an uproar and a surprisingly emotional performance later, Dean was at the studio door, shaking the infamous Gabriel’s hand for what Dean sincerely hoped was the last time.  Cas was waiting by their car, keeping a protective watch from the sidewalk behind the studio.

 “Are you kidding?” Gabriel exclaimed, “I just hosted Dean Winchester’s final live performance.  Our server has already crashed twice and the ep’s been over for what?  Ten minutes?  I owe you two one hell of a wedding present.”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Dean responded amicably, accepting one more overbearing hug from the comic before joining his partner in the back seat of their rented car, rolling up the partition so that he could pull Cas close and let out a shaking breath with relative privacy.  Castiel rubbed a hand up and down his side as Dean loosened his tie and relaxed into the comfortable, if unfamiliar, leather cushions. 

“I’m proud of you,” Castiel murmured, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean turned to meet Castiel’s serene, if tired gaze, a smile playing at his lips.  He was done.  Well, not done, but in the home stretch.  Dean leaned down the inch or so between them and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s lips.

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers old and new! We're making good progress so far, just a few more emotional odds and ends to take care of before the big event! Thanks for reading and I hope to read your comments soon :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! i'm working on a lengthy update, so here's a little wedding preparation fluff to tide you over. Thanks for reading!

“If we’re trying to follow tradition at the ceremony,” Castiel grumbled as he buttoned up the custom shirt Pamela had ordered for him, “Then I have no business wearing white.”

Dean chuckled from the stall next to Castiel’s. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about affording the ring, right buddy?” Dean joked through the thin wall of the changing rooms.  Castiel could hear the rustling of fabric on the wall opposite of him, and he scowled as he struggled with his cuffs.  He knew whatever Dean was currently slipping on was going to look devastatingly attractive, but Pamela had been adamant that he and Dean not see each other in their wedding attire until the ceremony.  Castiel had to admit she’d made a good choice in picking out his shirt.  The white on white brought out the warm tones in his skin, making his hair and eyes more dramatic.  The intricate floral embroidery over his chest and at his wrists gave it an edge of formality, almost reminiscent of lace on a wedding gown.  Were Castiel less secure in his masculinity, and lacking the confidence of he and Dean’s conversation weeks earlier, he would have been concerned that he was being pegged as the bride in this relationship.

“How are my grooms doing?” Pamela called from the waiting seat outside.  She was doing double duty, waiting to see the final fit on the two groom’s Western tuxedo alternative while ensuring Dean and Castiel’s privacy in the very public specialty store.  Dean had signed a few autographs on the way in, posing for a picture with the owners to ensure they’d be left in relative peace.  “Are you decent?”

“I think these jeans might be too tight,” Castiel heard Dean mutter.  He looked down at his own slim cut black denim pants.  The dark color was elegant, but the coarse fabric kept the outfit balanced between too formal and too casual. 

The door beside his own opened and Castiel could hear Pamela’s low whistle of approval.

“Trust me, handsome,” Pamela drawled, “Those fit you just right.”

Castiel could practically feel the heat of Dean’s blush through the fitting room walls.

“I gotta lay off the beer,” Dean grumbled as Pamela left him to check on Castiel’s outfit, “I think I’m getting a gut.”

“You don’t have a ‘gut’,” Castiel informed him, exasperated, as Pamela tried to hide her grin while tugging on Castiel’s cuffs, “If I had to pick a name I’d call it a ‘belly’ at most, which may I remind you I find extremely attractive.”

Dean chuckled.   

“That’s ‘cause you’re a kinky son a bitch, babe,” he called back fondly.

“Save it for the honeymoon, you two,” Pamela interrupted, standing back with a nod of approval for Castiel’s shirt and pants, “We’re already late for the cake tasting and we can’t afford any public indecency arrests.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean and Castiel muttered in unison.

* * *

 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Castiel moaned, startling Dean as he sampled the admittedly delicious red velvet cake.  It was at least the tenth flavor they’d taken a bite of today, but apparently it stood out to his partner. 

“What _is_ this?” Castiel asked, knocking Dean’s fork aside to claim another bite.  Dean couldn’t help but laugh at his normally reserved Cas, letting out pornographic noises in the middle of a bakery.  That was usually Dean’s job.

“You’ve really never had red velvet?” Dean wondered, “It’s like…kinda chocolate, I think, with a butt load of red food coloring.”

“It’s fantastic,” Cas declared, tugging the whole plate over to his side of the small bistro table, “I want this one.”

“Alright, alright,” Dean surrendered, “Donna?  I think you might’ve broken my fiancé.”

The owner of the bakery paused in her negotiations with Pamela to laugh at Castiel’s enraptured expression as he cleaned the small sample plate.

“Was it the red velvet?” She asked, unsurprised, “Yeah, you know, that one’s pretty popular with the fellas.”

“It’s delicious,” Castiel congratulated her, sipping his complimentary champagne, “That will definitely be one of our flavors.”

“Roger that, one down, one to go,” Donna chirped, marking down their selection, “How ‘bout you, handsome, hm?  Any winners?”

“Um…”  Dean surveyed the remains of their sampling, trying to think of one that had stood out.  Having two cakes had been Pam’s idea, a play off the traditional groom’s cake, fitting in this case since there were only grooms.  When Dean had agreed he hadn’t considered that that would imply he would have to pick a flavor on his own.  His plan had been to give Cas the reigns, given his own take-it-or-leave it mentality when it came to cake in general.  Donna was a very talented baker, but Dean felt himself hard pressed to pick one that really rocked his world.

“Dean’s dessert of preference is usually pie,” Castiel supplied, and Donna took on a thoughtful expression.

“’Ya know, I might have just the thing,” she declared, slipping behind her display case to pull out a tall cake with warm honey colored frosting, “I had an open weekend, thought I’d do a little experimenting.  Here we go.”

Quick as a jiffy the cheerful baker cut a small slice each for Dean and Cas.

“Is that…apple?” Dean asked as he picked up his fork, eyeing the familiar fruit filling.

“You betcha,” Donna answered, offering a plate to Pamela, “’Apple Whiskey Pound Cake’.”

Dean knew before he took his first bite that Donna had baked a winner. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a nice long update (by this fic's standards, anyway). I highly recommend you listen to the song that Dean sings for Maggie during bath time. "Maria" by Brooks and Dunn, because its an adorable song to imagine small children trying to sing along with and because its one of my childhood faves. This chapter earns our E rating, and I'll just warn for brief emotional distress and emotional hurt/comfort, which is resolved by the end of the chapter.

“… _MariiiEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeiiiiiaaahhhhhhhh….Maaaarriiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiaa I love you…”_

“Again Daddy, again!  Sing the Maria song!”

 _“_ Alright, baby girl, alright.  Let’s make it a duet this ti-hey! Watch the suds missy!”

“Yeehaw!”

Castiel tuned out his daughter’s bath time antics with regret.  He much preferred the sounds of Dean’s singing and Maggie’s splashing to his sister’s disappointing news.

“Are you sure, Anna?” Castiel asked, leaving the door open a crack as he took his phone call into the master bedroom.

“I’m sorry Castiel,” Anna answered, “We tried, dad and I both, but you know how she is.”

“I do,” Castiel agreed, resting his head in his hands, “I appreciate you letting me know.  At least I won’t have to wait to get the invitation returned undeliverable.”

“I wish I was calling with better news,” Anna sighed, “I can’t wait to see you for the wedding.  We really do live too far apart.”

“We miss you too,” Castiel replied, “Maggie was asking about you earlier.”

“She’s so sweet,” Anna cooed, “You have such a beautiful family, little brother.”

“ _She’s the sunlight when my_ skies _are gray…”_

Dean’s rumbling voice was barely audible from the hallway, punctuated by Maggie’s happy squeals. 

“I do,” Castiel murmured, smiling in spite of himself, “Dad and Naomi are coming, right?”

“Are you kidding?” Anna laughed, “I can’t get Dad to shut up about it.  They’re so excited Castiel, you won’t even recognize them.”      

“I’ll bet,” Castiel demurred, distracted by footsteps in the hall.

Dean poked his head in the door with a strawberry pajama clad Mary Margaret in tow.   

“We came for goodnight kisses,” he announced, nodding at the phone at Castiel’s ear, “Is this a bad time?”

“Never,” Castiel promised, “Anna, can I call you back?  It’s Maggie’s bedtime.”

“God, you guys are too cute,” Anna declared, “We’ll see you soon Castiel.  Don’t let mom get you down.”

“I’ll try,” Castiel murmured, wishing his sister goodnight before hanging up with Maggie’s background cries of “’Night Auntie Anna!”

Dean groaned, pretending to struggle under Maggie’s weight as he swung her up onto the mattress.  Maggie bounced a few times, kicking her bare little feet at Dean before padding over and falling into Castiel’s lap.  It’s seemed the residual energy from bath time was finally tapering off, Maggie snuggling into the soft material of Castiel’s sweater on instinct as she blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. 

“Looks like Cowboy Daddy wore you out,” Castiel guessed, chuckling as Maggie shook her head stubbornly in that way that reminded him of Dean.

“’M not sleepy,” she insisted, holding her arms out for Castiel, who quickly scooped her up.

Mary Margaret wrapped her arms around his neck, and Castiel held her close, soothed by the scent of no tears shampoo and the warm weight of her against his chest.  He glanced up to see Dean looking at him intently, no doubt alerted to the heaviness of Castiel’s mood despite his best efforts.  Fortunately Castiel’s acting was good enough for Maggie.

“Goodnight Dada,” she said with a kiss to his cheek, only wrinkling her nose briefly at the scratchiness of Castiel’s stubble.  Castiel chuckled before pressing a kiss to her soft blonde curls.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

Dean crouched by the bed, one hand warm on Castiel’s knee as he smiled, so enamored with their daughter.  Castiel doubted his own expression was far from his partner’s.  Maggie, and Dean, they were his safe haven, even when his extended family made him want to tear his hair out.

“Do you need any help?” Castiel offered when he finally handed Maggie back over for bed time.

“Nah, I’ve got the little monkey.” Dean tossed Maggie over his shoulder, the resilient toddler only reacting with a few giggles and a large yawn as he patted her strawberry patterned bottom.  “I’ll be back in a few.”

Castiel waited until Dean and Maggie had left the room to collapse onto their mattress, giving up on his futile attempts to keep despondent thoughts at bay.  Anna was only trying to help by letting him know, but he couldn’t help wishing that she’d just allowed him to forget his mother until the day arrived and he could be distracted by the wedding chaos.  The last thing Castiel wanted was to spend the few weeks before his wedding in a state of melancholia, especially around Dean. 

Since announcing his retirement Dean had been in a perpetual good mood, with seemingly endless energy for playtime with Maggie and surprising Castiel with homemade dinners when he got home from work.  There was still some traveling to be done after the wedding to complete Dean’s final album, but he seemed lighter with the promise of an end in sight to his semi-nomadic lifestyle.  It was only a slightly bittersweet, the knowledge that Maggie would grow up with two present and loving parents, something neither Castiel nor Dean had had the privilege of.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked, as he returned to their room a few minutes later, having successfully lulled Maggie to sleep, “You seemed pretty serious on the phone with Anna.”

“I’m fine.  You, on the other hand, look a little damp,” Castiel observed, making room for Dean on their bed as his partner shut and locked the bedroom door.

“I’m still gettin’ the hang of toddler bath time,” Dean admitted with a shrug, tugging off his thoroughly splashed t-shirt, “There’s a lot more liquid involved now that she’s too big to just wash her in the sink.”

Dean was still in a playful mood, crashing onto the mattress to growl and nuzzle at Castiel’s stomach like an overgrown puppy.  Usually Dean’s friskiness was contagious.  Now that Maggie was generally capable of sleeping through the night their sex life had kicked into high gear, the pair of them making an art form of locked doors and muffled sounds of passion.  Despite his desire, tonight Castiel struggled to shake off his sister’s bad news.  Dean was quick to pick up on Castiel’s unresponsiveness.

“Babe, what’s up?”

Castiel shrugged, casting his gaze away from Dean in an attempt at nonchalance.  Apparently his attempt at indifference hadn’t fooled his fiancé, who got Castiel’s attention with a sharp nibble below his belly button and a raised eye brow.

“My mother isn’t coming,” Castiel admitted at last.

“To the wedding?” Dean guessed, unsurprised, though his eyes softened.

“I’m sorry.”  Castiel nodded, rubbing his eyes.

“Apparently she didn’t think it was worth the flight,” Castiel had to add, salt in the wound of his mother’s secondhand brush off.

His parents had split up when he was still in grade school, but Eve Novak had always been distant, even in Castiel’s earliest memories.  Looking back Castiel realized that his mother resented him and Anna, physical reminders of her disappointing marriage.  Eve had married Chuck Novak with the impression that he would soon be a bestselling author.  What he became was a struggling writer with an unhealthy alcohol dependency.  Like Dean’s father, Chuck had made a great turnaround, thanks to his kids and Castiel’s stepmother, but Eve had already written him off, along with the rest of the Novak family.

Despite all of the history, years upon years of disappointments, Castiel still found himself blindsided by Eve’s callous behavior every time.  Birthdays, High school graduations, _college_ graduations, all notably missed.  Hell, she’d never even _met_ Dean.  Maggie’s birth announcement had been answered with a generic card and a subtle jab at Castiel’s biological relationship to his daughter.

He was blessed with an incredible partner and a beautiful baby girl and god _damn_ it he wanted his mother to see it.  Castiel wanted Eve to see how happy he was despite her total, remorseless absence from his life.

“We don’t need her,” Dean growled, sucking a hickey just below Castiel’s navel, “We’re gonna have a kick ass wedding, and everybody who really matters will be there.”

“You’re right,” Castiel agreed, tugging himself out of his miasma, “Of course you’re right.”

Intent on letting Dean put him back in a good mood; Castiel pulled his partner up into a kiss.  His hands traced eagerly across Dean’s back and chest, enjoying the areas of hard muscle as well as the pleasant, softer areas that came with the approach of middle age.  Dean parted his lips with his tongue, and Castiel hummed into the kiss, trying to feed off of Dean’s surplus energy.  Something in his embrace must have still been off, because Dean paused, pulling back to stare at Castiel intently.

“Hey,” Dean said quietly, “If you’re really not into it tonight, we can stop.  It’s okay.”

Castiel pulled his hand through Dean’s dark blonde hair, grateful and considering.  He drew his thumb across Dean’s full bottom lip and felt the real stirrings of heat in his belly.

“Sit up, cowboy,” he ordered with a grin to match the one edging up the corners of Dean’s plush mouth.

“You got it, partner.”

They wasted little time getting Dean situated against the headboard with Castiel kneeling on either side of his chest.  Already Dean had Castiel’s shirt rucked up under his armpits and his pants down around his thighs, nosing and kissing his cock to hardness through his boxers as Castiel fumbled with pulling his sweater over his head. 

“Mm…want you to fuck my mouth.” Castiel heard through the thick material of his shirt where it was caught around his neck.  He managed to finally free himself as Dean found the head of his dick, mouthing at it and soaking through the thin cotton of his underwear with saliva.  He nearly topped forward in his eagerness to ride Dean’s mouth, forgetful of the jeans still caught around his legs.  Fortunately Dean was still full control of his faculties, catching Castiel with a strong grip on his waist and a bubble of laughter as Castiel shimmied out of his pants until he could kick them to the end of the bed.  His boxers followed close behind, and then Dean’s grip was shifting, sliding from his waist to drag over Castiel’s groin, across the jut of his hipbones until he was at Castiel’s back, kneading the meat of Castiel’s ass.  The massage made Castiel groan, fully hard as Dean pulled the tension from his muscles.

“You sure?” Dean asked one last time, tracing his hands up and down Castiel’s corded thighs.

“Oh I’m sure,” Castiel assented.  His hips edged forward, almost of their own accord, until the tip of his cock, already wet, was resting against the swell of Dean’s lip.  Dean’s gaze darkened and he looked Castiel dead in the eye as he flicked his tongue out to steal a drop of pearly pre-come.

“Then give it to me,” Dean responded, a hint of a challenge in his eyes as he guided one of Castiel’s hands to the crown of his head, letting Castiel thread his long fingers through Dean’s thick blonde hair.  Castiel gave a short tug, pushing the head of his cock into Dean’s mouth with a heavy exhale.  Pressure from Dean at the back of his thighs encouraged Castiel to initiate a shallow, thrusting rhythm.  Dean, attuned to Castiel’s senses after many nights of intimacy, got to work lighting them up with his tongue and the tight suction of his lips. 

 _This_ was what Castiel needed; to feel loved, _wanted_.  He needed something real and physical to keep his mind from pointless and depressing meditation.  His hands framed Dean’s face, one thumb pressing to the edge of his partner’s mouth where he could feel his own cock moving, in and out.

“You always know just what to do,” Castiel breathed, limbs shaking as he thrust as gently as he could manage.  Dean just gripped him tighter, pulling Castiel closer and swallowing around the head of his cock.

“You’re so good to me,” Castiel babbled, Dean’s eyelids fluttering as he groaned, “So good _for_ me.”

Dean skin was flushed from arousal and Castiel’s frank affection, his freckles stark against his cheeks as he worked Castiel’s length.  Castiel whimpered at a particularly skilled press of Dean’s tongue, hyperaware of every touch between them, from the wet suction of Dean’s mouth, to the heat and closeness of his chest against the front of Castiel’s thighs, to the points of pressure from his fingers against his hips.  Another accurate swirl of Dean’s lips had Castiel clenching, shivers tracing down his spine to places deeper, awakening a familiar need that only his partner could satisfy.

“ _Dean,_ ” Castiel gasped, “I want your fingers.  Need them.  _Dean._ ”

Castiel was desperate enough for his partner’s hands that he was willing to take an awkward pause to fish the lubricant out of their dresser drawer, but that proved unnecessary.  Dean, with a little scrabbling around, emerged triumphant with the small bottle, apparently tucked under Castiel’s pillow for ease of access.  They were getting careless with where they left their “personal supplies,” as Dean liked to categorize them when they made their grocery lists, and they had an increasingly mobile and curious three year old.  Castiel would have to remind Dean of the need for discretion now that little hands could be exploring all inches of their bedroom.

The pop of the plastic cap quickly dampened Castiel’s thoughts of paternal responsibility, as Dean slicked up a few digits, all while still humming around Castiel’s cock.

Castiel shuddered at the touch of Dean’s cool, lubricated fingers, trailing down the base of his spine as his partner reached blindly for his entrance.  The first touch to that sensitive, vulnerable muscle had Castiel spasming forward into Dean’s throat, stammering out an apology as he pushed too far and Dean squeezed his thigh in warning.  He drew back, pushing against Dean’s fingers again as Dean coughed, blinking away a few tears before pulling Castiel right back into his mouth with a groan.  Castiel was ready this time when Dean’s index finger breached him, and he managed to respond only with a sharp tug on Dean’s hair and an aborted whimper.

Being muffled by Castiel’s cock didn’t make the noises coming from Dean’s mouth any less obscene, his lips almost as slick as fingers as he played with Castiel’s hole.  Castiel was overwhelmed, mindless as he rutted forward into Dean’s warm mouth then feeling the aching stretch as he pressed back against his partner’s expert hands. 

“So gorgeous, Cas.  Forget about everything else.”  Dean pulled back to catch his breath, licking at the head of Castiel’s dick.  He had two fingers inside now, stroking, _stroking_.  “It’s just you and me, right here.” Stroking… _ohthereyes_. “I want you to come in my mouth.” 

Castiel did.  He came, braced against the wall as Dean dragged his fingers slow against Castiel’s prostate and grazed his teeth _ever_ so slightly against his shaft, the double sensation like lightning against the back of Castiel’s eyelids.  He shuddered and caved forward, his cock twitching and spending as Dean continued to suck and swallow as best he could. 

They continued until his soft dick slipped from Dean’s mouth, Castiel’s breath hitching from the cool air against his spit slick length as Dean eased his fingers out of Castiel’s sensitive hole.         

“I love you _so_ much,” Dean whispered hoarsely into Castiel’s navel, hands still bearing traces of lube as he dragged his knuckles down Castiel’s thighs.

It was his partner’s tenderness that finally broke down the wall between Castiel’s carefully compartmentalized emotions.  Curled over Dean, still naked and vulnerable, he didn’t realize his heaving breath was due to more than his orgasm until the first tear fell.

“Aw, Cas,” Dean murmured, pulling Castiel down into his arms, “C’mere.  I got you.”

“It’s not you,” Castiel insisted, unable to cease his shaking, “Never you.”

“I know what it is.”  Dean hands roved up and down his spine, pushing through his hair and down his sides.  “You don’t have to explain, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel choked out as hot tears slipped down his cheeks, “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t let her upset me like this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Dean said sternly, “How many times did you have to pick me up off the floor when me and my dad were on the skids?  This is why I’m here.”  Dean’s reassurance was a balm to Castiel’s heartache, but it was still a tender wound.

“She doesn’t even want to meet Maggie,” Castiel sobbed, “What kind of mother is that?”

“Shhh, I know,” Dean murmured, tucking Castiel’s face into his neck, “I know, baby.”

Castiel cried until he fell asleep, lulled into rest by the motion of Dean’s fingers through his hair and his soft whispers of _love you_ and _my Cas_.

 

* * *

 

The morning found Castiel at peace, awoken softly by the puff Dean’s breath against his temple.  The morning sun streamed across their dove gray bedspread, catching on the warm peach of Dean’s skin and the feathery tufts of his sleep rumpled hair.  Dean still kept him wrapped in a stubborn embrace, determined to protect him even in slumber.

“I am very glad to be marrying you,” Castiel whispered, leaving a kiss on Dean’s forehead as he carefully untangled himself from his partner’s long limbed grasp.  Dean mumbled something in his sleep, burrowing his face further into their pillows.

It was early, but Maggie would no doubt be up shortly, so Castiel hit the ‘go’ button on the coffee maker and set about gathering supplies for French toast.  Fortunately Castiel was very like his early rising daughter, finding energy in the sunrise and the cacophony of birdsong when they left the windows open in the spring, like today.  Dean on the other hand, would stay happily unconscious until Castiel lured him out of bed with kisses or foodstuffs. 

On this particular morning Dean’s sleeping habits would give Castiel the time he needed to make a phone call without his partner finding out.  He scrolled through his contacts as he pulled eggs and cream from the fridge, debating for a moment before selecting Jo Harvelle’s number.

“Cas?” answered a chipper feminine voice, “What’s up man?”  Castiel assumed Jo was also an early riser, or was perhaps in a later time zone.

“Jo,” Castiel greeted his friend, “I was wondering if you would be willing to assist me with a little wedding project.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter's been kickin' my ass. Anyways, here's the bachelor party part 1! We're almost to the big event.

It was Castiel who suggested combining the rehearsal dinner and their bachelor parties, and Dean was definitely on board.  “Bachelor” sure as hell didn’t describe either of them despite their unmarried status, and spending a night black out drunk in a strip club hadn’t been Dean’s idea of a good time since his early twenties.  Not to mention they would both prefer to spend their honeymoon without seeing each other in any tabloids.

It hadn’t taken much to convince Pamela and the wedding party to toss out the catered dinner/sleazy bar tradition in favor of a big cookout at home.  So here was Dean, on the night before the big day, lining up what must be at least a cow worth of steaks for him, Cas, Maggie, about fifteen early wedding guests and all the in-laws.

Cas’ family had flown in that morning, getting situated in Dean and Castiel’s guest rooms before the rehearsal.  They had the space for Anna and Chuck and Naomi to have their own rooms, with only Samandriel on the sleeper sofa in the living room.  Castiel’s father and step mother had spent most of the day resting, so Dean, Cas, Anna, and Alfie, as Castiel’s step brother preferred to go by, had spent a quiet afternoon catching up and playing outside with Maggie.  Dean liked Castiel’s family, as rarely as they all saw each other.  They were a little…stiff, but they loved Cas, and that was good enough for him.

Mm…Cas.  Dean had left his fiancé inside to pull the baked beans and roasted onions out of the oven.  He could see him through the back window, talking easily with Chuck and John, Maggie perched on his hip.  He caught Dean’s eye, and a secret smile pulled at his lips.  They were getting married _tomorrow._   It made Dean’s stomach do a little flip.  The bang of the screen door startled Dean, and he finished arranging the steaks on the grill before turning to see Sam offer him a beer.

“Hey, old man,” Sam joined Dean on the patio just beyond the back porch, “First you retire, then you call off the bachelor party?  I thought Dad was the only Winchester around here with an AARP card.”

“I’m a homebody,” Dean growled, gesticulating with the barbecue tongs, “Sue me.  How’s Jess?”

“She’s good,” Sam informed him, “She’s holding court on the living room couch I think.   Moving around too much gets her tired out real fast.”

“She’s not gonna go into early labor at my wedding, right?” Dean inquired, only half joking, “I’m not worried about her stealing the spotlight, but you gotta let me know if I should have an ambulance on standby.”

Sam shook his head with a laugh.  “Nah, we had our last checkup yesterday.  We’ve still got a week before the due date and our OBGYN says everything’s on schedule.”

“Sammy, that’s great.” Dean set his beer aside.  “Got any names lined up?”

“Just one,” Sam said, leaning against the porch railing, “Me and Jess are still negotiating on the middle, but the first was easy.”

“Yeah?” Dean flipped the first round of steaks, “Well?  Lay it on me.”

“Deanna.”

Dean froze, a piece of beef still clasped in his tongs.

“If you don’t like it, you get to tell Jess,” Sam continued casually, “She’s already using it in a song for our next album.”

“Sam…” Dean almost burned himself getting the grill closed so he could pull his brother into a hug.  “Dude, I’m fuckin’ honored.  I can’t believe it.”

“It’s not like I have any other big brothers,” Sam chuckled, clapping Dean on the back, “Though she was almost Cassandra.”

“Jesus, you big sap,” Dean muttered, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice as he returned to the grill, “Are you sure you wanna put this on your kid?  I’m a hot mess.”

“Please,” Sam waved off Dean’s self deprecation with the ease of long practice, “There is literally nobody who has done more for me than you, Dean.  I want my kids to know that.” 

“Wow.”  This grill was really smoky.  It was making Dean’s eyes water.  “Okay…yeah.”

“Yup.”  Sam was fidgeting now.  It reminded Dean surprisingly of their father.  “I should probably go check on Jess.”

“Damn right,” Dean said gruffly, clapping Sam on the shoulder as he passed him, “And no emergency deliveries in my living room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam called before the screen door slammed and Dean was alone on the porch once more.  He sniffed, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes, though he didn’t do anything to keep the shaky smile off his face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning of the wedding has arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I have not abandoned you! I've recently had something of a crisis of fandom, but this fic will be finished and Dean and Castiel will have their happily ever after! this is a short update, but i have more written and plan on updating again before the end of the night! Enjoy, and I look forward to your reviews!

The morning of the wedding broke clear and sunny, with blue skies and only mild hangovers for most of the wedding party.  Castiel had just sat down to his first cup of coffee when he was whisked away from the comforts of home and his sleeping fiancé by a far too energized Pamela.

“It’s barely seven,” Castiel grumbled as he was herded, still in his pajamas, into Pamela’s sleek sedan.

“The ceremony’s at ten, handsome,” Pamela grinned, “And I need you squared away before I attempt to tackle getting your ornery soon-to-be husband prettied up.  Besides, it’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“Too late,” Castiel mumbled contrarily, smiling as he thought of the sleepy kiss he’s stolen from Dean as he’d gotten out of bed that morning.

“We’ll deal with it,” the wedding planner shot back, listing off the morning’s itinerary, “We’ll see the barn, then do last minute checks on your suit.  Your folks have Maggie, they’ll be in to get her ready at eight along with the wedding party…”

Castiel was still too groggy to be anything but calm, and before he knew it they were pulling into the venue where the ceremony and reception were to be held.   Pamela certainly earned her reputation, choosing an old fashioned but meticulously preserved country mansion.  The majority of the wedding activities were actually being held in the finished barn, a huge space with soft crème walls and arched ceilings with exposed beams.  On a tour through the space weeks ago Castiel had been struck by the peace and serenity of the space, its wide doors letting in natural light and the early summer breeze.  He’d given Dean’s hand a squeeze, imagining the space draped in flowers and full of chairs for their family and friends.  Though religion wasn’t the most important role in either of their lives, Castiel felt the space comparable to a church, giving their wedding a sense of reverence and celebration that warmed his heart. 

For now Pamela shunted Castiel quickly into the house, lest he catch sight of any of the finished décor before the actual ceremony.  The mansion was actually a historical landmark, serving as a venue for formal events and a museum for 19th century America.  Today of course the house was closed to the public, as Castiel and Dean, along with their groom’s people, would be using the upper rooms to get ready for the big event while the caterers took advantage of the huge kitchens downstairs.

Pamela ushered Castiel into what appeared to be a large bedroom with an attached bath.  She tossed him a small bundle which Castiel recognized as his own travel toiletry kit and some underwear and told him to take a shower.

“You get yourself cleaned up and awake, and I’ll get your clothes,” Pamela promised, before disappearing down the hallway with a speed that left Castiel reeling.

“Um…okay,” Castiel agreed, still clutching his chipped coffee mug as he eyed the suite’s bathroom with suspicion.

Castiel was rinsing shampoo out of his hair, enjoying the house’s surprisingly good water pressure, when he truly woke up, and realized where he was.  Soap ran into Castiel’s eyes and he swore, rinsing under the water and trying to soothe his sudden nerves.

He and Dean were getting married today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I don't really know much about kansas so the house I where Dean and Castiel are getting married isn't based on a real place. Updates soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Cas have a talk before the big event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh I'm such a bad updater. I'm heading to florida for a few days so I won't be able to write, but when I get back, it's time for the big day! Also this is definitely unbeta-ed.

What Castiel had thought would be a few minutes turned into a forty minute wait for his wedding clothes.  He gave himself a careful shave, and even attempted to tame his stubborn hair, to little success.  He was pacing in the room, avoiding sitting on any of the probably valuable furniture in just his boxers, when a knock at the door finally came.  Castiel hurried to the door with a towel around his neck, surprised when instead of Pamela, the old polished wood opened to reveal Chuck Novak already dressed and holding several garment bags over his shoulder and Castiel’s favorite boots in one hand.

“Hey, Cas,” Castiel’s father greeted him, “Pamela’s had a small decorating crisis.  She says it’s not a problem but she sent me with your suit, I guess.”

“Dad,” Castiel responded with a smile, ushering Chuck into the room, relieving his elderly father of his burdens.  He scrambled into his jeans and shirt, some of his unease finally settling once he was in this strange house in more than just his boxers.  Chuck turned his back politely, but Castiel could see him laughing as Castiel realized he’d buttoned up his whole shirt wrong.  Castiel sighed and started over more carefully with a wry grin.  Once he was mostly dressed Chuck took a seat on one of the stools that accompanied the rooms vanity set.  Despite the no doubt hectic goings on around the building, Chuck looked relaxed.  Enthusiastic, even.  The nervous tics and anxious air that Castiel remembered from his childhood had settled into the calm of old age.  Mostly.

“How’s Maggie?” Castiel asked, adjusting his sleeves in the full length mirror, “She didn’t give you any trouble this morning, did she?”

“No,” Chuck assured him, “She’s just excited.  Anna’s with her and the other girls getting ready now.  She’s a little ball of energy, that one.”

“She gets it from Dean,” Castiel agrees, “Thanks for helping out with her.”

“Anytime,” Chuck offers, “You look great.” 

Castiel brushed down the front of his white shirt.  He could see how the white fabric brought out the warmth in his skin.  Mostly it was comfortable and familiar, which took the edge off of Castiel’s nerves about being in the public eye.

“You look good too,” Castiel answered, admiring his dad’s suit, its collar held by a western style tie, “I see you tried to fit the theme.  It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Chuck mumbled, fingering the metal clasp uncertainly, “John loaned it to me.”

“I’m glad you’re getting along.” 

“Yeah, well, we have a lot in common.”  Chuck had the grace to look ashamed as Castiel took the reference to his father’s past alcoholism in stride.  “Um…”

Castiel sat beside his father, listening as he grabbed his cowboy boots.  They had been a gift from Dean, for their fifth anniversary. 

“I don’t wanna take up too much time,” Chuck continued quietly, “Alf and his mom are waiting for me at breakfast.  I just wanted…I just wanted to say thank you.”

Castiel paused in tugging on his boots.

“’Thank you’?” he repeated dumbly.

“Yeah.” Chuck stood up, resting heavily on his cane.  “You know, for not giving up on me.  For inviting me to the wedding.  For…well, for letting me part of your life.  I’m just really glad to be here.”

“Thanks, dad,” Castiel murmured.  There was a level of anxiety within him that settled with his father’s presence, aged but healthy, against all of Castiel’s youthful expectations.  His teenaged self, witness to his father’s struggle with alcohol and depression, had barely hoped to see Chuck Novak with grey hair, let alone happy and well long into his sixties.      

“I know you wish your mom had come,” Chuck mumbled, “I do to.  But she had to make her own choices, and the one’s she’s made are as much my fault as hers.”  Castiel nodded, his throat tight.

“But um, me, and Naomi, and Anna,” his father offered, “And Alfie.  We’re here.  We’re here because we love you and were happy for you.”

Castiel smiled.  His side of the proverbial altar may be tiny compared to Dean’s, but every member had been hard won.  With all of the new family he would legally be gaining today, Castiel knew there would be no shortage of people to love and support him and his husband and daughter for the rest of their life together.

 “Quiet, loyal Castiel.  My son.”  Castiel’s father had never seemed so tall as he pulled Castiel into a hug. 

“None of us saw it coming,” Chuck said warmly, “But you threw out the book.  You made your own path and now you’ve got a family and a life any man could be proud of.  _I’m_ proud of you.”

Castiel didn’t trust himself to speak, but he held his aging father tightly.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted what you and Dean have,” Chuck added, squeezing Castiel’s shoulders as they parted. 

“That’s already behind us, dad,” Castiel assured him, “I’m really glad you’re here.  All of you.”

“Good.”  Chuck seemed a little unsure now that he’d made his big speech.  Castiel found it endearing, rather than frustrated as he often had in his youth.

“I guess I’ll see you in a while,” his father concluded, “Good luck, son.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel walks down the aisle in style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's entrance to the wedding was actually the first scene i wrote for this fic. It's still my favorite I think ;)

The hour after Castiel’s father left him seemed to fly by, and it was no time at all before there was once again a knock on the door.  This time it was Castiel’s sister, along with his longtime colleague Balthazar, both looking a lot more country than Castiel was used to seeing them.  All the ladies would be wearing circle skirts in different colors, with western shirts in light denim.  The men like wise were wearing collared shirts, with pressed jeans and boots.  Somehow Pamela had found just the right colors to keep everything looking elegant despite the soft fabrics and tones.

“We’re here to escort the groom,” Anna declared as Castiel joined them in the hall.

“Anna,” Castiel greeted his sibling, along with a hug, “You look lovely.  You’re sure you don’t mind the denim?”

“I love it!” Anna exclaimed, spinning in her full green skirt, “Castiel, this theme is adorable.”

Balthazar was also in good spirits as they made their way from the manor house to the barn out back, though he seemed to resent his groomsman uniform more than Anna.

“I am wearing a _belt buckle_ ,” he griped, straightening the collar of his magenta shirt, “Like bloody John Wayne.”

“If you wanted a skirt instead we could have arranged it,” Castiel smirked, “You should have said something at the fitting, Baz.”

“You little shit,” Balthazar swore fondly as Anna laughed, “I always knew that Winchester guy would rub off on you.”

“Don’t worry,” Castiel assured him with a wink, “I’m _rubbing_ _off_ on him just as much.”

Both Castiel’s sister and his friend looked blanked for a moment before Anna cracked up and Balthazar groaned at Castiel’s innuendo.  Castiel felt pretty pleased with himself until they approached the entrance to the main room and he could hear the murmurings of about a hundred voices from the other side of the large doors.  The twist of anxiety from earlier came back in full force.

“You look nervous, Cassy,” Balthazar heckled, tossing an arm around Castiel’s tense shoulders, “Surely you don’t think he’ll bolt on you _now_ , after a dozen odd years of committed shenanigans?”

That made Castiel chuckle.

“No, of course not,” he agreed, “I just still have a degree of… _anxiety_ associated with our relationship being under public scrutiny.”

“Little brother,” Anna spoke up, “There’s no reporters waiting for you in there.  Just your family.”

“Exactly,” Balthazar chimed in, giving Castiel rub down like a coach in a boxing ring, “We’re not here for scandal, we’re here to see you and Dean legally confirm how disgustingly committed you are to each other.  It’s all very boring and domestic, truly.”

That made Castiel laugh, and he was much more relaxed when Pamela finally made her reappearance, with the rest of Castiel’s side of the wedding party in tow.  Sam, Jo, and Benny, as Dean’s “groom’s men” were already inside with Castiel’s waiting fiancé, along with a very nervous Jesse the ring bearer.

“Watch out people!  Flower girl coming through!”  Charlie announced, looking lovely in a sunflower yellow skirt as she burst into the vestibule bearing one fully dressed and decorated Maggie.  Castiel’s daughter was dressed to complement the women in the bridal party, in a sweet denim dress with a peter pan collar and saddle shoes.  Her gold hair was loose with a wild flower crown to match the ladies’ bouquets.   

“Dada!”

Charlie quickly released the squirming three-year-old, and Maggie ran into Castiel’s waiting arms.

“Hi, baby,” Castiel murmured, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s fair hair.

“You look like an _angel_ ,” Mary Margaret exclaimed, touching the delicate embroidery on Castiel’s shirt.  Castiel’s heart swelled with love for his little girl, whose wide blue eyes matched his own.

“Thank you, Maggie,” Castiel said, taking her hand, “Are you ready to lead the way?”

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed as Castiel stood up straight once more, “Is it time to get married?”

“Sure is, kiddo,” Pamela spoke up from near the big doors they would all soon be walking through, “I’ve got the green light from the musicians and the groom.  The _other_ groom,” she corrected herself with a grin.

Castiel waited with a bouncy Maggie as Pamela quickly lined up the rest of the party.  Soft traditional music started up from inside the barn, and before Castiel knew it Anna and Balthazar were entering the crowded room together.  Charlie was next.  As Castiel’s maid of honor she was walking alone, carrying a full bouquet of wildflowers that complemented her red hair.  She hugged Castiel before Pamela cued her to follow the others.

“I knew you two would make it here someday,” Charlie confided to Castiel, kissing his cheek before strolling through the double doors with her usual grace and confidence.  Castiel smiled.  Gaining a friend like Charlie had been only one of the many blessings that had come from his relationship with Dean.

“Ready for your big entrance?” Pamela asked as Charlie approached the front of the large room.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Castiel answered, squeezing Maggie’s hand, “Thank you for everything, Pam.”

“Don’t mention it, handsome,” the wedding planner replied with a wink, “Just have fun and remember whose waiting for you in there.”

The Pachelbel canon died out as Castiel and Mary Margaret stepped up to the doorway.  Castiel paused as a guitar started up in its place, strumming a set of familiar chords.  A fiddle joined in with the melody, and Castiel laughed out loud as he recognized the song.

_“We call them cool, those hearts that have no scars to show…”_

Castiel started as he realized the words weren’t only in his heart but in the air itself.  Every guest who knew the Garth Brooks classic had joined in right on cue, each individual voice staying soft, but adding up to a beautiful hum of sound.

“ _The ones that never do let go, and risk the tables being turned…”_

“Look,” Mary Margaret said, tugging on Castiel’s hand, “There’s Cowboy Daddy." 

_Dean._

“ _And we call them fools, who have to dance within the flame…”_

Castiel’s eyes were drawn up the aisle to where his partner waited on a platform, raised a few inches above the rows of chairs.  He locked eyes with Dean, and for a moment he felt twenty-six again, staring up at his future husband from the fifth row of a mediocre concert venue.

“ _Who chance the sorrow_ and _the shame, that always comes with getting burned…”_

They said the look on the groom’s face as he saw you coming down the aisle would be the highlight of the ceremony, and for Castiel it was.  However the expression on Dean’s face wasn’t new to him.  It was intimately familiar.  Surprise and awe, like the first time Dean had caught his eye from the stage, and every time Castiel walked into a room after, as though Dean couldn’t believe Castiel hadn’t left yet.  Love, with an edge of protectiveness, the face Dean had worn the first time he’d seen Castiel holding an infant Maggie, and still wore whenever their family had to be in the public eye.  This was not a new man waiting for him on the makeshift altar.  Castiel was going home. 

“Let’s go see him,” Castiel suggested to Maggie as the crowd turned towards them, the murmur of Dean and Castiel’s commitment song still hanging in the air.

“ _But you’ve got to be tough when consumed by desire, ‘cause it’s not enough just to stand outside the fire…”_

“We call them…” Castiel prompted at the start of the second verse.

“Strong!” Maggie chimed, laughing as Castiel stopped to spin her around halfway up the aisle.  Maggie most likely knew this song better than Castiel did.  Dean sang it to their daughter at any opportunity.

“… _those who can face this world alone, who seem to get by on their own, those who will never take the fall…”_

The voices came mostly from Dean’s family, the musical Winchesters and their friends, but a few of Castiel’s guests had learned the words as well.  Anna was singing along with the rest of the wedding party on the altar, and Castiel teared up a little to see his father with Naomi and Samandriel as he passed them, smiling and doing their best to keep up with the lyrics.  Castiel walked joyfully up the aisle with his daughter to the sound of the first song that Dean had ever played for him, sung by all the people they held most dear.

“ _And we call them WEAK,_ ” Castiel heard Dean’s laugh as they drew closer to the front and the crowd’s voices rose to a shout, “ _Who are unable to resist, the slightest chance love_ might _exist, and for that forsake it all.”_

Maggie ran ahead at the last minute, bounding up the short steps to throw her arms around Dean’s legs.  Castiel reached the bottom stair just as Deans knelt to give Mary Margaret a proper hug.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dean greeted their daughter with a kiss on the cheek, “Time to go wait with Charlie now, remember?”

“… _They’re so hell bent on giving, walking a wire.  Convinced it’s not living if they stand outside the fire...”_

“Heya, Cas.” Dean looked as handsome as Castiel had ever seen him, green eyes bright against the deep brown of his shirt.  The colorful wildflowers embroidered over the bib brought out the flush in his cheeks and the shine in his dark blonde hair, hinting at its first threads of gray.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel answered, taking his fiancé’s outstretched hand, “Whaddya say the two of us get married?”

Dean’s smile was brilliant. 

“Sounds like a plan, partner.”

_“Standing outside the fire,_

_Standing outside the fire._

_Life is not tried it is merely survived_

_if you’re standing outside the fire.”_


	14. Chapter 14

“By the authority vested in me by the State of Kansas, I now pronounce you married.  You may kiss your husband!”

Maggie led the cheering as Dean pulled his partner, his _husband_ , in by the hips and planted a kiss on his perfect pink mouth.  Castiel smiled against his lips, and they shared an intimate moment before turning to face the large crowd, hands intertwined.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you Misters Dean and Castiel Winchester-Novak!”

A holler went up through the congregation.  Sam was the first to toss his Stetson with a whoop, and in seconds the air was filled with cowboy hats and white paper confetti.  In the midst of all the noise Dean couldn’t help pulling Cas close again, resting their foreheads together for just a moment.  Castiel’s hands curled around Dean’s elbows, and he laughed as a piece of confetti landed right on the tip of Dean’s nose.

“We did it,” Cas murmured, reaching up to brush the offending fiber away.  His hand settled against Dean’s neck, and they tipped effortlessly into another kiss. 

The moment was interrupted by a camera flash, and both men jumped. 

“Sorry!” Charlie squeaked, brandishing her iphone, Maggie still balanced on her hip, “But that was too cute _not_ to be on Twitter.  The fans are gonna love it!”

Dean hummed.  “Our public awaits, I guess,” he said, still grinning.  Even the long hour of photographs to come couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.  Cas was gorgeous, his white shirt bringing out his blue eyes and the flush in his cheeks.

“I think we can handle it,” Castiel answered dryly, taking Dean’s hand again.  As they followed Charlie and Maggie back down the aisle into their sea of family members and well wishers, Dean knew his husband was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't abandoned you! I have a few more rapid fire short chapters almost done.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brief interlude before the reception...

“Ugh, Cas, you’re so hot.”  The cool tile propping up Dean’s back was an electric contrast against the hot line of Castiel’s body where they pressed together from chest to groin.  Hotter still was Cas’ mouth, sucking a devastating hickey just below the visible cut off of Dean’s collar.

Knock knock.

“Dean…mMmmm…”  Dean had Castiel’s muscled thigh between his legs and a healthy grip on his husband’s ass.  It didn’t get any better than that, in Dean Winchester-Novak’s book.

Knock knock knock.

“Is that…”

“No, _shhhh_ -“

“Winchester-Novak, party of two,” Pamela chimed from the opposite side of the men’s room door, “Boys, your five minutes of grow-up time is up and I’ve got a photographer waiting outside along with your antsy wedding party!”

“Shit,” Dean cursed under his breath, gripping Cas tighter.

“Dea- _Dean_ ,” Castiel hissed, shuddering as Dean ground down on his thigh, “We have to stop.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dean pouted, biting at his husband’s neck rebelliously.

“Last warning lovebirds!” Pamela threatened, “If I have to ask again I’m sending Maggie, and we won’t knock first.”

That makes both men freeze.  Dean looked to Castiel, still panting.

“She wouldn’t,” he guessed, “She’s gotta be bluffing.”

Castiel raised one eyebrow, which did nothing to settle Dean’s libido.

“I’m not explaining the birds and the bees to our three-year-old,” Cas declared at last, “Intimacies will have to wait until after the reception.”

Dean’s head fell onto Cas’ shoulder with a _thunk_. 

“We’ll be right out,” Dean called loud enough for Pamela to hear, “Rev up the cameras.”

Castiel straightened Dean’s shirt collar and slapped a kiss against his jaw.

“Let’s go enjoy the party,” Cas suggested, smoothing the front of Dean’s shirt over his chest, “Then we can go home and fuck against every piece of furniture in our bedroom for the first time as a married couple.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh even as Cas’ words made his cock throb in his jeans. 

“You’re such a romantic,” he teased, kissing the tip of Castiel’s nose, “C’mon.  Let’s go take some cheesy group photos.”


	16. Chapter 16

_“It's your love,_  
 _It just does somethin' to me,_  
 _It sends a shock right through me,_  
 _I can't get enough,_  
 _And if you wonder,_  
 _About the spell I'm under,_  
 _It's your love…”_

Sam and Jess sang from the stage at the top of the room as Dean and Castiel spun slowly on the dance floor, tired and ecstatic.  The last few hours had been a blur of pictures, hugs, toasts, and good smelling food that neither Dean nor Cas had had five seconds yet to sit down and eat.  Castiel was certain the only thing keeping him upright was his husband, holding him close as they moved simply but intimately across the floor. 

_“..Better than I was,_

_More than I am…”_

Sam’s agile fiddle and gentle baritone were the perfect match to Jess’ warm alto.  Castiel smiled at his brother and sister-in-law, so happy they’d offered to share their talents for Dean and Cas’ first dance.

“You remember Sam and Jess’ wedding?”  Dean was focused on Sam and Jess as well, though Castiel could see some old melancholy mixed in with Dean’s usual affection. 

“Hm,” Cas hummed, barely touching Dean’s cheek with his own, “I remember you getting intoxicated enough to drag me into the coat check and attempt intercourse.”

“Oh yeah.”  Castiel felt Dean’s grin against his ear, and he flushed slightly at the inebriated memory.

_“And all of this happened,_

_By takin’ your hand…”_

 “We never did make it all the way that night,” Castiel mused, “Not for lack of trying.”

“Eh…all I really wanted to do was make you laugh,” Dean admitted with a shrug, “So it worked out okay.”

“And why did you want to do that?” 

Dean leaned down to press a kiss to Castiel’s shoulder.  “Because I knew the wedding made you sad.”

_“And who I am now,_

_Is who I wanted to be…”_

His husband’s admission makes Castiel start.  “How did you know?”

“It’s my job to know.  ‘Sides, I was sad too.”  Castiel held Dean a little tighter when he heard that.  All his memories of Sam and Jess’ fairytale wedding stood a little sharper in his mind.  Dean had been so happy for his brother, but in retrospect Castiel recognized the same edges of malaise in his then partner that Castiel had held in his own heart that day.

“What do you suppose was wrong with us?” Castiel wondered.

_“And now that we’re together,_

_I’m stronger than ever,_

_I’m happy and free…”_

Dean made a thoughtful sound, his hand stroking up and down Castiel’s spine.  “’Cause we’d already been ‘married’ for two years but never got a party.  We were like a dirty secret, and meanwhile everybody was congratulating Sam on finding such a gorgeous girl, asking them about babies and whatnot.  Everything about it was so…normal, and it hurt a little bit that we’d never have the same things.”

_“Oh, it’s a beautiful thing,_

_Don’t think I can keep it all in,_

_And if you asked me why I changed,_

_All I gotta do is say your sweet name…”_

Castiel rested his chin against Dean’s shoulder, observing the smiling faces of their guests as they turned on the dance floor.  The melancholy of that day was a distant memory in the face of his current happiness.  All of their friends and family were there to celebrate the two of them, both their marriage and their accomplishments as a couple over the last decade.  Three different people had already asked him when he and Dean might start thinking about another baby.  Castiel straightened, pressing a demure kiss to Dean’s cheek.

“I don’t think weddings will make either of us sad anymore.”

“ _It’s your love…”_

Dean rested their foreheads together, eyes warm with devotion.

“No,” he agreed, with a secret smile only meant for Castiel, “I suppose not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! it's a Christmas miracle. Also note: Dean and Cas' first dance song is "It's your love" by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. Basically the ultimate standard in late 20th century country duets.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses as to why this fic has been on such a crazy hiatus. But I will promise you that Wrapped up in You will be finished by the end of the week. For all my remaining readers, enjoy!

The night took off after Dean and Castiel’s first dance.  In place of a band Dean and Castiel’s musical family members each played a short set.  Sam and Jess had played a few more after the first dance, followed by Jo and Ellen, Garth, Ash, and Benny, and Jody and Alex.  With some teasing encouragement from his sons John had even made it onto the stage with Bobby to play some Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson.  There was plenty of dancing, drinking, and celebration.

A few hours later, the reception was finally winding down.  Only a small crowd of family and friends remained, mostly Harvelle-Singers, Winchesters, and Novaks.  Dean was enjoying a quiet drink with his in-laws.  Chuck and Naomi had taken a while to warm up to Dean, but they had a good relationship now, and Maggie loved getting to spend time with her grandparents. 

Dean was musing on that when he noticed that neither his daughter nor his husband were anywhere to be found. 

“Hey, have you seen-“  Dean realized Chuck and Naomi were both looking at the stage behind him with matching smiles.

“I think you’re needed up front,” Chuck observed.  Dean turned to see Ellen beckoning him forward, indicating an empty chair at the edge of the dance floor.  Dean followed her instructions, puzzled.

“What’s going on?”

“Just have a seat, kiddo,” Ellen encouraged him, patting his shoulder before pointing up at the stage, where Sam was waiting, Maggie held securely on his hip.

“Excuse me, everyone?” Sam tapped on the mic, getting the attention of the room, “It’s come to my understanding that Miss Mary Margaret has an announcement to make.”

Maggie looked very shy, but with some guidance from Sam she spoke clearly into the microphone.

“Um..Dada,” she indicated Castiel, sitting at the base of the stage next to Jo, who was tuning up her acoustic, “Dada says he wants to sing a song for Cowboy Daddy.”

The crowd _awwed_ , and Dean felt his heart warm as Cas blushed.  Maggie wasn’t done yet though, Sam whispering in her ear to remind her of the next part.

“Dada also said,” she continued, scrunching up her little eyebrows in concentration, “he said ‘Daddy is not allowed to laugh ‘cause of the song he picked’.”

If there was one sure thing to make Dean laugh, it was Cas and Maggie leveling him with identical stern looks. 

“Let’s hear it for Cas!” Sam concluded, as Maggie squealed and applauded her successful introduction. 

“My thanks to Jo for helping me get this together,“ Cas said, clearing his throat nervously, “I’ll uh…I’ll only preface my performance by warning you all that I am very nervous and a little bit drunk.”

There was some quiet laughter as he nodded to Jo, who started plucking a gentle melody. 

“This is for you, Dean,” Castiel continued, finding Dean’s eyes across the floor, “You’re an amazing partner and an even better father, and after twelve years it feels like a miracle to finally call you ‘husband’.”

The melody shifted into a series of lilted chords and Dean smiled, recognizing the tune just as Cas began to sing.

“ _I wanna touch the earth,_

_I want to break it in my hands,_

_I want to grow something wild, and unruly…”_

Cas wasn’t gonna be headlining at the Grand Ole Opry anytime soon, but his gravelly voice was warm and true, and it made honest  to god tears prick at Dean’s eyes. 

_“I wanna sleep on the hard ground,_

_In the comfort of your arms,_

_On a pillow of blue bonnets,_

_And a blanket made of stars…_

_Oh it sounds, good, to me,_

_Yes it sounds, so good, to me…”_

Jo joined Castiel on the refrain, singing the high melody while Castiel dropped in to a lower harmony to spare the range of his inexperienced baritone. 

“ _Cowboy_ take _me away,_

_Fly this boy as high as you can into the wild blue…”_

Castiel threw Dean a not so subtle wink at the pronoun change, and Dean shook his head, his cheeks hurting from his grin.  He was married to a huge dork, and Dean wouldn’t change him for the world.

“ _Set me_ free _, oh I pray,_

_Closer to heaven above and closer to you,_

_Closer to you…”_

There was a tugging on Dean’s hand, and he realized that it was his daughter.   Mary Margaret had made her way across the floor and was pulling Dean up to dance.

“C’mon, daddy,” she urges.

“How can I say no to such a beautiful lady?” Dean asked, following Maggie a little ways onto the floor amidst the _aw_ ’s of the remaining guests.  Carefully he guided her polished Mary Jane’s on top of his own well loved boots, taking both his daughter’s hands so they could start a nice slow spin, Maggie’s feet balanced on top of his own.  Dean looked up in time to see Cas beaming at both of them before he went into the second verse.

“ _I wanna walk, and not run,_

_I want to skip and not fall,_

_I wanna look at the horizon,_

_And not see a building standing tall…_

_I wanna be the only one,_

_For miles_ and _miles,_

_Except for maybe you,_

_And your simple smiles…”_

“Go get him, Cas,” rang over the microphone, “I can take it from here.”

Dean finished twirling Maggie just in time for Castiel to join them on the dance floor, having abandoned his microphone to Jo’s safekeeping. 

“Mind if I join you?” Cas asked as Maggie squealed in delight. 

“Dada,” she declared, wrapping her arms around Castiel’s leg, “You sing pretty.”

Cas blushed as Dean drew his husband in for a kiss. 

“I think Maggie pretty much summed things up,” Dean said with a grin.

Dean scooped up Mary Margaret, slung his arm around Cas’ waist, and kept right on dancing.  Jo brought the number home for the crowd as Dean and Cas sang the lyrics under their breath, just for each other and their baby girl.

“ _Cowboy take me away,_

_Fly this boy as high as you can into the wild blue,_

_Set me free, Lord I pray,_

_Closer to heaven above and closer to you…_

_Closer to you…”_

“Was I terrible?” Castiel asked as the last chorus faded out.

“You’re amazing,” Dean responded, arm tightening around his husband’s waist.

“I’m sure I don’t have the same performance charisma as you-“

“Cas,” Dean interrupted, bumping their brows together, “It was perfect.  _You_ are perfect.”

Castiel smiled, cheeks pink from alcohol and performance anxiety.

“I love you, cowboy,” Cas rumbled, pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek.  

“Me too,” he said, catching Castiel’s mouth in a kiss as well, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That song btw is "Cowboy take me away" by the Dixie Chicks


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks. Thanks for sticking with me.

“Daddy! Me and Grandpa Bobby are gonna play Wii bowling _all_ night!”

“Wow, baby,” Dean marveled, wincing on behalf of Bobby and Ellen, “That sounds fun. Be good for grandma and grandpa, okay?”

Mary-Margaret had been nodding off on Ellen’s shoulder when Dean and Cas had kissed her goodnight at the close of their reception, but clearly the toddler had found her second wind. A reassuring phone call had been necessary once Maggie realized that she wasn’t going to see them again until Tuesday, when he and Cas returned from their three day mini-honeymoon. Luckily after a few tears Dean’s baby girl was happy again and looking forward to a whole weekend with her surrogate grandparents.

“I will be very good,” Maggie vowed, “You and Dada be good too. Say hello to the Grand Canyon from me.”

“Will do,” Dean promised, grinning as his husband returned from the bathroom in worn flannel pajama pants, both their wedding shirts neatly on hangers to be placed in the closet. _Nerd_ , he mouthed at Cas, who merely rolled his eyes, ruffling Dean’s hair as he joined him on their bed.

“Listen, baby,” Dean continued, putting Mary Margaret on speaker, “It’s time to say goodnight, okay? Dada’s here too.”

“Hi, Dada!”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Cas said, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder so they could speak into the phone, “We love you. We’ll send lots of pictures tomorrow.”

“Love you too,” Maggie replied, interrupted by a yawn. Maybe Bobby wouldn’t be chained to the Wii all night after all.

After a few more goodbyes Dean ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand before collapsing back onto the mattress. The memory foam felt like heaven against his sore muscles. Don’t get him wrong, this had been one of the greatest days of Dean’s life, but fourteen hours on your feet was fourteen hours on your feet.

Cas got up off the bed, and a few moments later the lights dimmed with a click, leaving only the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Dean shuffled under the covers, tossing back the duvet to make room for his husband. Castiel slid into his accustomed side of the mattress, pulling up the blankets until they were covered like an old sitcom couple. Castiel’s eyes glinted in the low light, a smile curling the edges of his mouth

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” Dean observed, twining their hands together to hear their rings clink.

“You’re all mine, Winchester,” was Castiel’s response, grinning wickedly.

“I already was, babe,” Dean reminded him, despite the warm fuzzies that stemmed from his husband’s words.

“I know,” Castiel assured him, “But you were right. This is different.”

It might have been the happiest Dean’s been since he and Cas brought Maggie home from the hospital. He dragged his fingers through Cas’ hair, limbs warm and drowsy. Castiel hummed, pressing lethargic kisses to Dean’s throat.

“Now I realize we made some plans earlier,” Castiel continues, tracing his fingers over Dean’s bare chest, “About christening our bedroom furniture for the first time as a married couple…”

“We did, didn’t we?”

Dean tried to rally, blinking the sleep from his eyes in case Cas was serious about an all night sex marathon.

“But I’m _exhausted_ ,” Cas confessed, laughing against Dean’s temple.

“Thank _God,_ ” Dean groaned, hands flopping onto the bedspread in relief, “Me too.”

They wound up pressed skin to skin, Castiel’s added weight making Dean sink down into the memory foam as their bare feet tangled under the sheets.

“We can have crazy married sex in the morning,” Castiel promised.

“Sounds like a plan, partner.”

“We can have crazy married sex for the rest of our lives,” Dean heard Cas whisper, which sounded less like a promise and more like a very happy realization.

“It’s a date.” Dean stretched to turn out their bedside light, and the room was swathed in intimate darkness.

“Goodnight, Dean Winchester-Novak,” Castiel murmured, head tucked under Dean’s chin.

“Goodnight, Castiel Winchester-Novak,” Dean replied, kissing Cas’ soft hair.

Dean kept running his hands up and down, from edge of Castiel’s hair to the base of his spine, until his husband’s breathing deepened, blowing out damp and warm against his neck. With the bulk of Castiel in his arms, and the thump of his heart against his chest, Dean let himself be pulled into sleep alongside his partner.


End file.
